A Crimson Sky of Warning
by Shadow Master
Summary: (BtVS/Mortal Kombat/Others) In most timelines the demon killer known as Xander Harris never managed to get past Oxnard on his cross country road trip. However as he would come to realize even the smallest change to the present can lead to a drastically different future.
1. Chapter 1

"A Crimson Sky of Warning" by Shadow Master

(BtVS/Mortal Kombat Universe/Others)

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the copyrighted material contained herein. They are the rightful property of their respective creators and associated companies. I make no profit off of this whatsoever and I have no intention of changing this at any point in the future. I write because it's fun and because there are those who enjoy reading my works. Therefore I would appreciate it if no legal action were taken against me by anyone. I can promise you that you won't get even a tenth of the money you're looking for because I'm not exactly well off financially.

Note 1: In terms of timeline this happens during the episode "Graduation Day: Part One" and in terms of the Mortal Kombat Universe this will happen many months before the beginning of the tenth tournament. By this I mean it will follow the events of Mortal Kombat 1 pre-retcon courtesy of MK9 but I will be using some of MK9's content in order to flesh things out. After all in the first Mortal Kombat game only the bare minimum background was given on each character and only a paragraph or two if they succeeded in beating the game. My story will have MORE.

Note 2: Since I am going to try to prevent this from becoming a simple rehashing of the MK storyline or BtVS episodes there is going to be deviation from established canon. Sometimes it will be only a little and sometimes it will be a lot. It will depend on what will make the story more interesting. If you are displeased with deviations in canon of any sort then I suggest you turn around and find another story to read. If you don't mind deviation from canon then please continue reading and I hope you enjoy my story.

Note 3: Due to a whim of my muse I will be incorporating characters from other fighting games but these will not be complete canon copies. It would be more accurate to call them dimensional analogues/counterparts of the characters from the games that you all know. Think of it like the 'What If?' comic books that Marvel Comics did for awhile. The broad strokes of the character, their appearance, will remain pretty much the same but I will be adjusting/altering their histories and perhaps a few other things to make it so that they mesh better with the story I want to tell. I can assure you that I will do my best not too stray too far from canon, certainly not enough to make them completely different characters, but I ask for a little flexibility from you the readers.

 _A Crimson Sky of Warning_

 _ **Business District, Sunnydale, Xander's POV**_

 _You know, I almost hope Anya survives if only to see if she actually manages to become all the way human again,_ he thought as he walked down the street in the direction of 'The Magic Shop'.

Things had been weird since the former Vengeance Demon of Scorned Women had been rendered fully human but he couldn't exactly say he was completely opposed to it all. It was like a train wreck that you just couldn't take your eyes off of because every minute it was something new. Either she said something in class that caused everyone to turn and look at her, wondering where the hell she'd gotten that answer, or stumbled over certain human behavior quirks that the rest of them navigated through without a problem.

Still, she'd managed to give them a leg up on the whole Ascension business so that'd been of the good, but trying to convince him to abandon his friends to save their own skins… not so much. He kinda understood where she was coming from, of course, since, up until a little before vamp Willow got mojoed into their reality, Anya had been a demon that'd lived a very long time. With that came the power to get herself out of trouble in the blink of an eye or the fact that she was a Vengeance Demon took her off the menu for a lot of demons that liked scarfing on humans. To suddenly find herself human again, with all the limitations, feelings and needs of one, had to be a pretty nasty jolt to the system. With new problems popping up daily with no end in sight, he was surprised that Anya hadn't just decided to jump off a cliff and end it all. Sure, he, as a human born and bred, didn't have an issue with the problems life threw at him but then he'd gotten used to them.

Anya had just gotten it dumped on her like shower water suddenly going ice cold.

 _Well, here's hoping she manages to push herself through it,_ he thought as he entered the business district of Sunnydale. _It might be hard but once she gets through the bad stuff, she'll see there are some good things about being human too._

With that thought his mind drifted back to the reason he was going to the Magic Shop in the first place and he had to shake his head in rejection of it. They'd been getting ready as best they could for the Mayor's Ascension and he'd personally been overjoyed to find out that Angel had FINALLY done the honorable thing and broken off romantic relations with Buffy. He wasn't quite sure why it'd happened now and not a week or two after the two started dating each other but he wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Sure, he had to look all sorry for her and give condolences since if he didn't Willow would give him 'The Look' followed by the cold shoulder for a few days until he apologized to Buffy, but on the inside he was doing the Snoopy Dance.

Now, though, a shot from Faith with a poisoned arrow had Deadboy all sick, so naturally Buffy was devoting a big handful of the Scooby gang's resources to finding a cure. In his opinion they should just wait until AFTER the Ascension to try to get Lord Forehead back into something resembling good health and not just because he didn't like the guy. He also wanted it done this way because he knew what this was: a distraction. The Mayor wanted them to waste time looking for Angel's cure so they'd have less to devote to stopping his Ascension, making it that much more likely to succeed. Weighing the two problems against one another, with a giant demon destroying Sunnydale on one side and a single souled vampire on the other, he really didn't think it was much of a choice.

Sadly both Buffy and Willow were living the delusion that they could solve both problems without too much trouble so he had no choice but to play along.

 _Hopefully once they see that Deadboy's a goner they'll focus on what's really important,_ he thought as he trotted along even as he had a sickening feeling that denial would be his girls' mantra for a good long while.

He was just passing by a darkened alleyway when he found himself being yanked and then thrown, ending with him crashing into the side of a dumpster that was so very much of the OW. Fortunately he was no stranger to pain and fighting alongside Buffy had given him greater resiliency than most, so it didn't take him too long to get his head straightened out.

What he saw though had him wishing he'd taken a weapon from his private stash with him and damn what'd probably happen to him if the girls found out about it.

"Hey, boytoy! Fancy meeting you here," Faith said as she looked at him from the entrance to the alleyway, a sadistic smirk on her face.

 _Keep it together! Keep her talking!_ "Yep! Life's just full of surprises!"

"Got that right. So how's B handling the one I gave her earlier?" Faith asked as she began to saunter towards him like a jungle cat stalking its prey. "She gone nuts yet?"

"Kinda. Big into the whole 'find a cure for the poison' thing right now," he replied as he began to back away at a pace equal to Faith's approach.

"Figured she would," Faith said, noticing his pace but doing nothing to alter the balance between them. "With Red and G working the books, I wouldn't be surprised if they found it. In fact I hope they do."

Not good.

Baddies who pull the poison routine usually boast about how the good guys'll never find the cure in time, if at all. They didn't actually HOPE for their plan to go belly up! The only reason he could think of why Faith would want Angel to get cured was because it'd somehow benefit her or the Mayor or the both of them. If he was right then he needed to fish for more info and hope that somehow he managed to get away from the turncoat Slayer so he could tell the others about what he'd found out.

"Really? Kinda seems counterproductive poisoning him then hoping he gets better," he said casually as he let his eyes look about for some kind of weapon. "What's your angle?"

A little direct but his current situation was making thinking straight a little hard so he'd decided to go with the direct approach.

"My angle, Xan, is that the only cure for the poison going through Deadboy's body right now is Slayer blood. A LOT of the stuff," Faith replied, her smirk widening into a smile. "Like say enough to fill a short bottle blonde body."

This bothered him because he knew that even if he told Buffy what he'd learned, it'd do more harm than good because the love-addled Slayer wouldn't hesitate to give herself up to save the 'love of her life'. The only other alternative would be to somehow grab Faith and feed her to Deadboy but that'd be a little easier said than done seeing as how the girl in front of him had the backing of the Mayor at the moment. Wouldn't surprise him to find out that Wilkins had some vamps or some demon tailing Faith with orders to step in if she was in trouble or to kill her if it looked like she was going to return to the side of the angels. Buffy'd cream them eventually but not before Faith pulled a fade and got away.

"Kinda risky using that kinda poison, isn't it?" he asked, hoping to learn enough to improve the odds of the good guys. "I mean it kinda puts your head on the chopping block."

"Please! Like B's capable of serving me up for her boyfriend," Faith replied, not sounding worried at all. "Even if she was, she hasn't got the skills to take me down. Not ruthless enough. Me? I got no problem bringing that kind of pain."

Feeling his back hit brick wall, he realized he'd reached the end of the alley and with Faith blocking the only way out, he was in quite the pinch. Looking around he spotted a wooden baseball bat lying amidst a nearby pile of trash and quickly picked it up, bringing it into a ready position. He knew it wasn't much as a weapon but it'd be better than going hand-to-hand with the treacherous Slayer and, if he got a lucky blow to the head, he could bolt for the street before she recovered. Sure, with Slayer speed she'd probably prove capable of catching up to him before he got more than a few blocks but if he found a good hiding place, he could wait her out.

Patience wasn't exactly something she had a lot of, after all.

Going with his instincts he lunged forward, betting that she wouldn't expect him to go on the offensive given the superiority complex he'd seen Slayers exhibit. Still he waited as long as he could before swinging the bat, but even with so little warning, he was disappointed to see the baseball tool pass the dark haired teenager by without so much as scratching her nose.

"Strike one, Xan!" Faith declared, sounding rather amused by his effort.

Lining up his next shot he tried to do a feint, make her think he was aiming for one spot when in fact he was aiming for another, but his lack of practice caused that to be a failure.

"Strike two boytoy!" she said mockingly as she caught the end of his bat for a moment before shoving it aside. "Feel like giving it one more try?"

 _If she's doing the whole baseball thing, she's going to be the one to go on the attack,_ he thought as he tried to cram as much thinking into the few seconds he had. _Might as well play to my strengths._

Looking over Faith's shoulder, he let his eyes widen a bit before he eased back into a more relaxed posture, as though a great weight had been taken off his shoulders. He could see this causing the wheels in the dark Slayer to turn as she tried to figure out the reason for the sudden change in his mood so he went for the cherry on top.

"About time you got here!" he said, making sure he sounded just the right level of relieved. "Mind if I tag out?"

"Really? The 'what is THAT' trick?" Faith asked, sounding MOSTLY disbelieving of his act.

"Sure… it's a trick. You just go RIGHT on thinking that, Faith," he said, putting his award winning lopsided grin on. "It'll just make things all the easier for Buffy to KO you."

He could see the growing indecision on her face eroding away the cocky certainty she'd had but he had to wait. Until she actually took her eyes off of him, he couldn't afford to make a move or else her Slayer speed would let her dodge his attack. As the seconds ticked by the tension and anxiety within him threatened to pierce the mask he'd put on but lady luck took pity on him. A second later Faith began to turn to look behind her and, luckily, did more than simply look over her shoulder so when he was confident that the timing was right, he made his move. Moving with all the speed he could manage he closed the gap between him and the dark slayer, bringing the baseball bat up for the strongest swing he could manage. He was almost upon her when either her instincts or her senses informed her of the danger he represented, so he swung.

Yet he aimed not for her head but rather her upper right leg.

She did try to dodge the swing but all she could do was keep it from being more than a glancing blow.

It caused the Slayer pain but it was not enough to stop her from counterattacking as he received a potent right hook to the head. The world shuddered out of focus and his thoughts with it, leaving him vulnerable until all righted itself, letting him know he was on the ground, his baseball bat nowhere close by. The part of his head where the punch impacted hurt, pulsed, but he shoved it aside as he got back to his feet as swiftly as he could since being on his feet would be more defensible than sitting on his butt. His feet were unsteady as was the rest of him but he refused to give in so easily. Drawing upon all of the instincts and bits of knowledge that he'd inherited from Halloween's soldier costume, he brought his hands up, making it clear he would fight still.

"You got balls, boytoy, big ones, but that lucky shot is the last one you'll get in against me." Faith said, her voice having taken on a much more serious and angry tone. "Time to feel some pain!"

A battle began that served to harshly and painfully show him just how big the gap was between an ordinary human and a Slayer. He did his best, no one would be able to dispute that, but the speed and strength he had was a full league beneath what Faith was capable of. Indeed, the only time he succeeded in connecting with her was when she chose to block or if she hit him at the same time, though he only remembered half of those. It was a powerful kick to his stomach that sent him flying backwards to the very brick wall he'd been trapped against minutes ago but, when he tried to get to his feet, the pain proved too much to overcome. His mind nearly blanked out during one of his attempts, forcing him to stay in a crouched position as Faith stalked towards him.

"Gee, Xan I'm flattered but I've got a better idea," Faith said as a sadistic smile came over her face. "If putting B's fuck toy in his sick bed distracts her this much, then putting you in the ICU will make thinking impossible."

She was really going to do it. She was going to do it and, considering her discipline problems, it wasn't entirely out of the question that she might accidentally beat him to death.

"NO!" he declared as he fought against the protests of his body.

"YES!" Faith declared, mockingly mimicking him. "As in YES you are going to get the crap kicked out of you and YES you will get to find out what it's like to wear a full body cast!"

Through some miracle he managed to get to his feet even as his body threatened to rob him of consciousness in protest to the stress being placed on it. Objectively he knew that in the shape he was in, the odds of him defeating Faith might as well not exist since even bringing his arms up into a fighting stance was horribly difficult. Still, if he was going to lose, he'd lose while giving it his all, making his opponent fight for every inch of territory she wanted.

"You've got guts, boy toy. Not much brains but guts," Faith said as she took up a fighting stance of her own. "Let's see how far guts gets you."

With that the fight resumed but it was quite the stretch to call it that because, even with all his willpower being put into his movements, he was barely at half the speed and strength he'd been at after losing the baseball bat. As such Faith had no need to dodge or block his blows because they had not the force behind them to do any damage to her body. In return, though, she toyed with him, striking blows meant to cause pain rather than achieve victory, until darkness began to creep in from the corners of his vision. Nevertheless, the same stubbornness that made him work towards becoming a better man than Tony Harris also fought to keep unconsciousness from claiming him. On some level his soul knew that to give in was to be like Tony and that alone made it work to keep that from happening, though it was anyone's guess how long it'd hold out.

"Time to clock out, boy toy," Faith said, sounding like she'd have her fill of fighting. "I'll be sure to let Willow know you gave it your best shot. I wonder how well she'll do."

Willow.

Even the concept that the evil Slayer might come within eyesight of his best bud caused all that he was to rebel with one absolute position reverberating throughout his being.

All at once something happened that he could not fully describe or even comprehend but, when his vision suddenly snapped into crystal clarity and his pain became significantly numbed, he chose not to look a gift horse in the mouth. Moving with speed of purpose he moved before Faith could comprehend that something had changed in him, slamming his right fist into her jaw. Surprisingly enough he actually managed to stagger her with the blow, causing her to take a couple steps backwards before recovering. He almost allowed this oddity to bring about hesitation but just wrote it off as an adrenaline surge that people sometimes had in life or death situations. Pressing his attack, he did his best to land as many blows as he could before she could adjust to the new circumstances and turn the tables on him. Blows to bone took priority, with ones to the head being mixed in to keep the Slayer from focusing long enough to turn the tide.

In the end he gathered all of the strength he now possessed and channeled it into one final uppercut that took the teenage girl off her feet entirely before gravity brought her back to the ground. It was gratifying to see that so potent had been his punch that Faith's jaw muscles twitched with the pain she felt. It was almost comical to watch. Before he could say something snappy to make himself appear more confident than he actually was, his newfound clarity and numbed pain began to drain out of him. It was not happening like a running river but rather like a gas tank from a car that'd sprung a leak, so instead he remained as still as he dared as he waited to see if the dark Slayer would continue the fight or if his surprise counterattack would prove enough to make her call it a night.

Like so many people who were confronted with the unknown or the incomprehensible, Faith got to her feet and ran away into the night.

That didn't mean he was safe, though.

With his wounds gaining ground against his will, it'd only be a matter of time before he was completely helpless and the helpless never lasted very long in Sunnydale, especially after night fell. Remembering a phone booth on the street he'd been walking down before Faith had grabbed him, he began to make his way toward it, hoping he'd last long enough to call Giles and have the man come pick him up. Sure, the man's car was older than the country and barely made the posted speed limit but he didn't exactly have another option at the moment. He couldn't call Missus S because, even though she knew about the things that went bump in the night now, he didn't want to worry her with how he probably looked right now. Cordy might be willing to talk to him now but it was mostly just 'preparing to avert our imminent deaths' talk rather than the old 'we are boyfriend and girlfriend please don't tell anyone' talk. He didn't see her willing to get into a car and drive to someplace Faith had been to pick up the walking bruise that he was at the moment.

He made it to the phone booth, got inside and closed the door, hoping that if some vamps or a demon did come at him it'd provide him with some sort of protection. Reaching painfully into his pocket he took out the needed coins, slipped it into the phone and then dialed the library's phone number. It took three rings but then it picked up to bestow upon him the Brit's familiar voice accent and all.

"Sunnydale High School Library, how can I help you?" Giles asked in the proper way he always did when he didn't know who was calling.

"Giles… it's me…" he said, unable to keep the growing pain he was feeling from creeping into his voice. "I need you to come… pick me up."

"Xander? What's wrong?" Giles asked, instantly sounding concerned and probably attracting the attention of the others in the library with his tone.

"Had a close encounter… of the Faith kind…" he replied, not having the energy to think up something a little less worrying. "Managed to get out of it… but I'm pretty banged up. Don't think I'll be able to make it back to the library on foot."

"Tell me where you are and I will come get you." Giles ordered even as the sound of a tinkling key chain and movement entered the background.

He rattled off roughly where he was using street names and the stores he was closest to. Not the sort of answer Giles would probably have preferred but the Brit knew Sunnydale well enough to know where to go. After promising not to leave the phone booth, he hung up and waited patiently for the former Watcher to arrive while still keeping an eye out on the immediate area.

As the pain continued to creep upwards in intensity and his ability to remain both conscious as well as aware dropped, he allowed himself some small amount of satisfaction.

He'd faced off against a Slayer and managed to send her packing.

Not bad for the normal guy.

 _ **Sunnydale Hospital, Willow's POV**_

 _You are SO in big trouble, mister!_ she thought as she entered the hospital and made her way to where Xander was getting patched up. _From here on I'm not letting you out of my sight for one SECOND!_

They'd all been there when her best friend had called to tell Giles that he'd gotten attacked by Faith and in the blink of an eye her imagination had run away with her, producing one horrific scenario after another. She'd been a little reassured that Xander had apparently managed to get away from the skanky Slayer but only a little bit. She'd tried to bulldoze her way into going with the former Watcher but he'd pointed out that there had to be a reason why Faith had been in that area of Sunnydale and that they should check it out. She'd protested, saying that Buffy could do that, but the man had pointed out that her growing magical talents might reveal something the Slayer could not sense. Reluctantly she'd agreed but made it clear that she was going straight to the hospital afterwards and that he wasn't to let Xander leave until she got to see him. She knew that if Xander managed to leave the hospital before she got there, she'd wind up having to wait until tomorrow sometime to find out precisely how bad he was hurt. Xan never liked letting others see him hurt or fuss over him. Had to be a guy thing because to her it felt perfectly natural to help out the people you cared about when they'd been hurt somehow.

It was still a sad thing that the Scoobies had gotten hurt often enough that they all knew where to go to find the nurse or doctor in charge of tending to their wounds. Most of the hospital staff just nodded at them as they passed, not protesting or throwing proper procedure and rules at them. It made her kinda wonder just how much they knew about the dark side of Sunnydale and what the Scoobies did to fight against it. Mentally shrugging, she let the thought slide off into her subconscious as she turned the corner and spotted the door to the room where Xander was being examined. Crossing the gap in record time she pushed the door open but stopped in her tracks when she saw her best friend sitting on the examination table.

"Xander…" she said, unable to say more as she took in the many sign of injuries.

Bruises, cuts, stitches, bandages, band aids and one arm in a sling made it clear that while, Xander had gotten away from Faith, the bitch had worked him over VERY good.

"It's okay, Willow, I'm okay. Just going to be a little more colorful for Graduation Day. That's all," Xander said, looking at her with his right eye almost completely swollen shut.

"While I would have to say that Alexander is downplaying things a bit, Miss Rosenberg, I agree that it's not bad enough to keep him from attending his high school graduation ceremony," the doctor said, adding in his bit of reassuring words. "Considering the sheer number of bruises and cuts, I'm rather relieved that there weren't any broken bones. Still, he'll need to take it easy for a week or two until the swelling goes down and then after that he'll have to come in so the stitches can be removed. Make sure he takes his meds and he should be right as rain before you know it."

"Don't worry. You tell me when he needs to take them and in what amount and I'll make sure it happens," she promised, looking Xander right in the eye with her best Resolve Face.

"Willow!" Xander whined as he no doubt was remembering past times when he'd gotten hurt or sick and she'd made herself his official nurse.

The lack of an official nursing license or anything really resembling official medical training meant naught.

That was what she used the internet and the library for, after all, and she'd done a pretty good job researching the proper treatments if she did say so herself.

"Don't you 'Willow' me, Alexander LaVelle Harris!" she declared, using his middle name to make sure he knew she meant business. "I know you! You'll say you'll take the pills or rest and then the second I'm out the door, you'll just go and do whatever it was you'd planned to do before you got hurt or sick. Well, not this time buster!"

She saw him slump and knew that she had him right where she wanted him.

It didn't take long after that to finish up with the doctor so, with the prescription in hand, they left the room, heading for the parking lot where Oz was waiting for them with his van. Things might be a little rocky between the two of them thanks to The Fluke but they were getting better, with everything going back to being okay looming encouragingly on the horizon.

That was assuming, of course, that they all survived the Mayor's Ascension.

They made it to the waiting room just inside the doors of the hospital but sitting there waiting for the two of them was the entire Scooby gang looking up with a variety of expressions on their faces. Shock, concern, fear and, in Buffy's case, a lot of anger. She could only imagine that after seeing Angel get hit with Faith's arrow, seeing another person she cared about seriously hurt by the evil Slayer only motivated the blonde that much more to take the traitor down.

"I'm gonna kick her ass!" Buffy growled after she finished her not so subtle visual once over of Xander in order to make sure he was okay.

"No, you're not," Xander said in surprising opposition to the idea.

"What?! Why not!?" she asked in perfect sync with Buffy.

"Because she came out and told me that sticking an arrow in Deadboy and thrashing me were both distractions," he replied, not wavering even a little under the two glare assault. "Besides which, she dropped some useful but dangerous info."

"What information did she give you?" Giles asked, looking interested in anything that could be helpful.

"Apparently the key ingredient to getting Deadboy back on his feet is a couple pints of grade A Slayer blood," Xander replied, sounding like he'd been reluctant about spilling this. "Might've just been hyping it but Faith seemed to think the bottle'd need to be drained dry for it to work."

Hearing that, she could see why her best friend had been reluctant to share the information because, if Angel really did need a body full of Slayer blood, then it'd mean Buffy'd die if she wanted her star crossed lover to live. For a moment she wondered if it could be done in sessions rather than all at once. Maybe Buffy could give the maximum that was safe, wait a couple of hours for her body to replenish what she'd lost and then give the maximum again. The only problem with that was that the graduation ceremony was coming up fast, leaving them precious little time to get ready, much less have Buffy recovering from significant blood loss.

"Fine. If Angel needs Slayer blood, I know how to get it." Buffy said in a tone that she could honestly never recall hearing come from her blonde friend.

Given how Buffy didn't look like someone who was ready to serve herself up to be fed on by a poisoned ensouled vampire, that only left… Faith. While not personally against the wild bitch getting some payback, she wasn't sure she was entirely okay with the idea of willingly and purposefully putting another human being on the menu. They were the good guys, right? That meant they only did what was right and honorable. Being a party to murder… that… that couldn't be right, could it?

"Buffy, I know you are upset with Faith's actions and betrayal, but giving her to Angel-" Giles said, sounding like he thought his former Slayer was being a bit irrational.

"Is balancing the scales, Giles," Buffy said, not giving so much as an inch from her position. "She stabbed us in the back, is working for someone who plans on killing everyone in Sunnydale and gets off on carnage and mayhem. Time for karma to come around and bite her in her leather clad ass!"

"So… what's the plan?" Xander asked, sounding like he wanted a better solution to their problems but couldn't think of any so he'd go with the flow for now.

"We get back to the library and Willow goes online," Buffy replied as she began striding for the door with the rest of them following close behind. "Look for any apartments or houses that got snatched up in the last month, anything being paid for on City Hall's dime, because if her last dive was any hint she's not going to be paying for her new pad out of her own pocket."

"I can cross reference the local realtor records with municipal funds," she thought as her mind began to draw up a way to find out where Faith was currently hanging her hat.

"Do it," Buffy ordered with an edge usually reserved for demons that seriously pissed her off. "I'm through being on the defensive!"

 _This is not going to end well, one way or another,_ she thought as they left the hospital for the library.

 _ **Sunnydale High School, Library, Xander's POV**_

 _This is gonna cost us somehow, I just know it,_ he thought as he continued to search through the book for something that'd give them an advantage going into the Ascension.

After all, if Buffy was going to risk everything to get her undead boyfriend on his feet, then they had to make up the difference somehow. So far, though, they were just finding more of the same: no survivors, bigger than life and pure demon. Definitely not something he was looking forward to facing but he was loyal to his friends so he'd stand by their side no matter the danger. After all, the alternative was to high tail it like Anya had and that wasn't for him because, even though he'd survive, it'd be a living death if even one of his chosen family died because he hadn't been there to save them.

"Yes. Right, right," Giles said from his office before leaving it.

"Something about the demon?" he asked, turning away from the book he'd been leafing through with one hand.

"Local villagers near the volcano site make reference to the legend of 'Olukai', which may be a bastardization of 'Olvikan'" Giles replied as he went up the stairs to the center shelf of books.

"Who's Olvikan?" he asked as he got out of his chair and followed.

"I know it's a demon, a very old one…" Giles replied as he looked through a specific section of books for the right one. "I might have a picture."

As he looked at some of the titles of the books they were thumbing through, he had to marvel at how none of the other students and some of the teachers ever clued into the truth. It was like someone cast an SEP spell on them and, considering they belonged to a Watcher, that was a distinct possibility.

"It's a good thing no one ever wanted to check out any of these books, huh?" he asked as he tried to figure out what dust collecting volume Giles wanted.

"Yes, very convenient…" Giles replied before reaching out for a specific book. "…ah. Here it is."

"Come on, Olvikan," he said like he was rooting for his favorite baseball player up at bat with the potential for a grand slam.

Page after page was turned and he knew enough about the language the book was written in to be able to spot Olvikan if it was there. It took a couple dozen pages but eventually they hit the mother lode in the form of a page that clearly had the right name in the upper right hand corner along with a fold out page on the other side. He figured it had to be just some length of stats or footnote info or just the author's weird ass way of laying everything out. Unfolding out the hidden page, he found his opinion changing again and again and again as he found out, much to his horror, that it wasn't stats the folds were concealing.

It was SIZE.

"We're gonna need a bigger boat…" he said as he compared the drawings of the humans with the drawings of the demon Olvikan.

Based on what he saw, getting swallowed in one bite was a distinct possibility for anyone unlucky enough to get in the large demon's crosshairs. It was BIG, VERY BIG, and one thing he was certain about was that the weapons they had in the cage weren't going to even put a dent in the thing, never mind actually kill it. Sure, if they got lucky they might manage to take out an eye with one of the swords but that presumed that they'd be able to get close enough to slam it home without being eaten.

Even for Buffy it'd be a tall order.

"Not necessarily," Giles said, sounding like he was trying to convince both of them that there was still hope. "Size is not necessarily indicative of power or strength. Much like Achilles of myth, it may possess some weakness we can exploit to our advantage."

"More research?" he asked, trying to figure out the right course of action.

"Yes. Now that we have found this, it narrows down the criteria and will allow me to find further details that much quicker." Giles said as he began to pluck books off the shelf that looked to be from the same period as the picture as well as the same part of the world.

It took a couple of minutes since Giles had to stop to think every once in a while but they had a nice stack of books to go through. With practice born of familiarity Giles put the books that were written in English next to his chair while he took the rest. Hours passed as he leafed through every page, trying to make sense of the old way of writing the author used but, thankfully for him, the past two plus years of experience as a Scooby meant he was up to the challenge. Eventually though fatigue began to chip away at their focus so he got up and went to coffee vending machine in the teacher's lounge. The thing must've been installed in the seventies judging by the look of it but it still put out the coffee when you put in the necessary change. Poured it right into the paper cups that came with the machine and, while he had a feeling it could be used to peel paint, he hadn't heard of any teacher's keeling over dead after drinking a cup.

It didn't take him long to make it back to the library and, just like he left it, the man was still nose deep in the books he'd taken off the shelf looking for answers.

"Any word from Buffy?" he asked as he walked to the research table.

"Not yet," Giles replied without taking his eyes off of what he was reading.

"Here's your coffee," he said putting the ex-Watcher's cup down next to him. "Brewed from the finest Columbian lighter fluid."

"Thank you," Giles said, taking a gulp of the cup's contents before scrunching his face up in disgust. "Horrible."

Of course this reaction didn't stop the man from downing the rest of the cup's contents.

"Aren't you supposed to be drinking tea, anyway?" he asked, figuring that not drinking tea had to be close to sacrilege for a Brit.

"Tea is soothing," Giles replied as he resumed flipping through the pages of the book he'd been reading. "I wish to be tense."

"Okay, but you're destroying a perfectly good cultural stereotype there…" he said with his usual humor, trying to lighten the mood if only a little.

"Look through the Kippler volumes," Giles said as though he hadn't heard a word. "Any reference to the Demon Olvikan… powers, weaknesses, hat size… there's got to be something."

"You still battin' zero?" he asked, sounding a little surprised at the lack of progress. "But I mean, in cricket?"

"So far," Giles replied, sounding unhappy himself with the results of his efforts, "but don't give up."

Picking up the sound of expensive sounding shoes approaching the library, he had a feeling about who was coming their way and he was right when Cordy appeared in one helluva huff.

"Cordy. Wassup?" he asked, wondering what had her in such a bad mood.

"I demand an explanation." Cordy exclaimed, sounding like she'd missed a sale on some one of a kind items.

"For what?" he asked, not able to come up with any reason why she'd need an explanation.

"Wesley!" she replied as though it should've been obvious.

"Uh… inbreeding?" he replied as a sort of question since his opinion of the wet behind the ears Watcher was pretty low.

"So very funny. Any minute now I'm sure to laugh," she said sarcastically before turning to Giles. "I just got off the phone with him. He could hardly speak, he was so upset. He said there'd been a fight, or something and he said he was leaving the country."

"Shall I feign remorse?" Giles asked with little if any regret.

"Just tell me what's going on." Cordelia asked with honest pain in her voice.

"Buffy has quit the Council." Giles explained allowing some gravity to enter his voice. "She'll not be working with Wesley from now on."

"But he's her Watcher!" Cordelia objected as though it was impossible to be the Slayer without a Watcher.

"Buffy no longer needs a Watcher," Giles said, making it clear that the two occupations were exclusive not joined at the hip.

"Well, does he have to leave the country?" Cordelia asked, sounding like she wouldn't mind if the green Watcher stayed. "I mean, you got fired and you hang around like a big loser, why can't he?"

"Cordelia!" he exclaimed not liking the fact that his ex had insulted a man he saw as a surrogate father figure.

This proved to be enough to stop her pleas.

"We're trying to stop a massacre here," he said, trying to convey that they had more important things to worry about. "You wanna give us a hand?"

Cordy waited a minute before nodding in the affirmative.

Of course this didn't stop her from muttering that it was typical that Buffy would do something selfish without consulting the rest of them.

As much as he had to agree that Buffy tended to act like the alpha and do what she thought was right rather than handling things by democratic vote, there was another side of things. His soldier memories told him that a combat unit couldn't be handled by vote. Sure, they could strategize together and pool ideas but when the curtain went up it had to be Buffy all the way.

He just hoped it didn't wind up biting them all in the ass one day.

 _ **Crawford Mansion, Buffy's POV**_

Entering Angel's bedroom, she hated seeing him like this, body being ravaged by the poison in his undead veins, but fortunately she had the cure. She knew that the others would try to stop her if they knew what she had planned and that was why she'd made it look like she wasn't prepared to go that far. Fortunately for her Willow always thought the best of her so, when she'd said that she wanted to be alone with Angel, the redhead hadn't hesitated for a moment.

Sitting down on the bed she put her hand on his shoulder, causing him to startle awake and look at her. She could see the suffering in his eyes, the difficulty telling reality from fantasy because of the crap messing with his mind, but he still focused on her.

"Buffy… it's you?" Angel asked as though he wanted confirmation of what his eyes were telling him.

"It's me," she said, not knowing how else to put it.

"I didn't want to go without… seeing you…" he said, apparently convinced that the time for final goodbyes had come.

Her pain spiked at that but she refused to let this be the final day for him, even if he'd broken up with her a short while ago. Her heart still sang for him and refused to let him go when there was still a way for him to remain among the living.

"Angel, I can cure you," she said, wanting to make it clear and impossible to misunderstand.

"It's okay…I'm ready…" he said, clearly thinking that she was deluding herself.

"Angel, listen to me," she said as she reached down to help him up. "Sit up."

It took a bit of work but she eventually managed to get him up into a sitting position where she could look him straight in the eyes.

"You're gonna live. You have to live," she said, making it clear she would not settle for anything less than that.

"What do I—" Angel began to ask before she cut him off.

"Drink," she said and, when it looked like he didn't quite comprehend, she pulled off her jacket and pulled one of her tank top straps aside. "Drink me."

It took a tick for him to fully clue in but the reaction was pretty much what she'd been expecting.

He jerked away from her.

"No," he said, making it clear he had no intention of feeding.

"It's the only—" she said, trying to make him see that there was no other option.

"Get away!" he exclaimed, getting off the bed, swaying a bit as he tried to stay on his feet.

"It'll save you," she said, making it clear that that was the only result she cared about.

"It'll kill you," he said, making it certain he only cared about that potential consequence.

"Maybe not, if you don't take it all…" she said, quietly omitting the fact that, according to Faith, Angel would need to take it all.

"You can't ask me to do this," he said, refusing to give into the demonic instincts he'd been fighting for so long.

"I won't let you die. I can't," she said, conveying the emotions that still burned bright within her. "The blood of the Slayer is the only cure."

"Faith…" he said, putting forth the only alternative.

"I tried to… I killed her," she said, remembering the sight of her lost sister being carried out in the back of a passing truck, a knife wound in her gut.

"Then it's over," he said, hope vanishing from his eyes as briefly as it'd appeared.

"No," she said as though her word held the same authority as GOD.

Moving forward, she tried to back him to the wall so that he'd have no choice but to do what she wanted but he pushed her aside and left the bedroom as quickly as he could without losing his balance. Too bad he only made it five steps before he stumbled into the coffee table, scattering the items on top of it, causing some of them to fall to the floor. Striding quickly towards him before he could recover and put some more distance between the two of them, she jerked him to his feet, never letting go of his arm.

"It's over!" Angel yelled trying to shatter her resolve.

"It's never over. I won't let you die," she said before trying to force him closer to her exposed neck. "Drink."

"Please…" he pleaded, obviously not wanting to slide into a bloody ditch he might never find his way out of.

 _Looks like I'm going to have to KO his reason so his instincts can take over,_ she thought as she brought back a fist and slammed it into her ex-boyfriend's face.

He almost left his feet but managed to sway back to her with an uncomprehending look on his face so she slammed another fist into him to clue him in.

It didn't save him, though, as punch number three caused him to vamp out, meaning she was halfway to her goal and just needed to push things just a little further. Grabbing him by the head she forced his mouth down to her neck and wasn't disappointed when she felt him bite into her neck and begin to feed. She'd only ever been fed off of once and that'd been by the Master but this was different since the need was greater in Angel than it'd been with the Master. Feeling Angel pull her closer, she lost her balance, causing the both of them to fall to the ground, causing her to wince in pain, causing her muscles to spasm so hard she shattered the table.

As the draining went on fear began to creep into her as she felt herself getting weaker by the moment and she realized that, despite his refusal earlier, he was now firmly in the grip of his blood thirst. She knew that she'd walked into here willing to go all the way but now that she was faced with it, she didn't want to die. With what strength she had left she tried to force him off but she barely managed to move him an inch, never mind come close to wrenching him off of her. Again and again she tried to push him off but her strength was waning and the blood loss was getting to the point where she began to hallucinate. She began to see the room in the asylum her parents had tossed her into rather than the living room of the mansion Angel had chosen to shack up in. It was a place she'd come to hate both because she'd known all during her stay that she wasn't insane as well as the fact that they kept her doped up on meds to keep her docile. Meds that'd kept her weak as a kitten and distorted the world around her to the point where her mind couldn't reach a consensus on what to do or even why she should do it.

Seeing the fake asylum world around her, only briefly flickering back to Angel's mansion, she remembered one of the more bizarre nights she'd spent in the straitjacket. She'd been lying in her bed, wrapped good and tight in her straightjacket, when the door to her room opened up. She'd looked in its direction, wondering what nonsense her mind would come up with and only raised an eyebrow when hooded monks with skull-beaded belts marched into her room, numbering five in total. They'd taken up places around her bed, the darkness keeping her from seeing their faces, and began chanting in a language she'd never heard before. She didn't remember much of what happened after that but the next day everything'd returned to the usual routine of shrink sessions and drug cocktails.

As the world began to dim around her, she hoped at least that her death would have meaning in that Angel would live. He could do the heavy lifting parts of the plan that she wouldn't be around for. Still the Slayer inside of her refused to leave without venting her fury for the world to hear and so, with all the strength she had left, she let out a hoarse primal scream. This proved to be the tipping point as the darkness surged forward and then she knew nothing.

Saw nothing.

Heard nothing.

Nothing at all.

 _ **Sunnydale Hospital, Xander's POV**_

No other thought occupied his mind except: is Buffy still alive?

Following Giles, Willow and Oz into the waiting area of the hospital, it didn't take him long to spot Angel looking troubled but very much better than he'd been the last time he'd been asked to babysit after the vamp had gotten hit with the poisoned arrow. It didn't take a genius to figure out what'd happened and it pissed him off to know that Buffy was in the hospital to put Deadboy back on his feet. He'd hated the vamp since day one, partly because Buffy'd been infatuated with him and because of what Angel was, and it'd only gone down a bit once he lost his lust for the blonde Slayer. To him a vamp was a vamp was a vamp and having a soul inside didn't change things at all. Still, with his best bud Willow and Buffy firmly in support of Deadboy, he'd been forced to keep things as civil as he could bring himself to be.

If Buffy had died because she'd saved Deadboy, he'd have one less reason to keep his opinions to himself.

"How is she?" Giles asked, sounding like a worried father.

"She's fine. She's sleeping," Angel replied, causing everyone present to relax a bit since the unfavorable bullet had been dodged.

"You seem all right too," Oz pointed out what all of them had been thinking since they'd seen the vamp on his feet.

"So what happened?" he asked, wanting to hear it from fang's own mouth.

"We left her, she was fine?" Willow replied, revealing that at the least she'd knowingly left Buffy alone with the sick vamp.

Not a smart move considering how loco the two of them got when reason left the building due to their feelings with one another.

"Did Faith-?" Willow asked, sounding like she thought something must've happened.

"Faith's out of the picture." Angel replied as guilt crept into his features. "Buffy put her in a coma."

"And…" he said, wanting the vamp to at least verbally admit to what he'd done.

"Buffy cured me… made me…" Angel said, unable to actually spit it out.

Giles had no such problem.

"You fed off her." Giles said with the utmost seriousness.

"Yes," Angel replied, looking ashamed and actually not trying to excuse his scummy actions.

"How much?" Giles asked, likely trying to figure out just how bad off Buffy was at the moment.

After all 'alive' and 'strong enough for graduation day' were two different things.

"She's going be fine," Angel replied, trying to make things seem less serious than they really were.

Not on his watch.

"Well, it's just good to know that when the chips are down and things look grim, you'll feed of the girl who loves you to save your own ass," he growled out in the most hurtful way possible.

He took it as a small victory when no one, much less Deadboy, could say anything in the vamps defense. He'd have preferred it if he wasn't the only person to bust Angel's chops but he'd take what he could get considering the crowd he was with.

"You'd best go, Angel," Giles said, breaking the silence that'd developed. "We can watch over her."

"I don't want to-" Angel said, sounding like he'd prefer to stick with them until they got the all clear to visit Buffy from the doctor.

"The sun will be up soon." Giles pointed out, glancing in the direction of the doors they'd just passed through.

This was enough to get Lord Forehead to give up and, as he watched the vamp leave, he could only say one thing. "Gosh, I'm gonna miss him when he leaves town."

He got an elbow in the ribs for his trouble from Willow but he'd expected that so he didn't make a big deal of it. The redhead had always been a big supporter of Buffy's relationship with Angel and had found the whole idea of a Slayer falling for a good vampire to be romantic. As a result any time his snarking crossed the line in her mind she let him know about it in a very effective way. Still, at least Deadboy was leaving town and, assuming the next person she chose to lock mouths with had a pulse and was human, he'd root for its success right next to Willow.

"Let's see how Buffy's doing." Giles said before advancing towards the nurse's station.

He listened when G-man and one of the nurses started talking but a part of his mind was working the probabilities and the possibilities of the big day coming down the road at them. Best case scenario was that Buffy's Slayer healing would have her bouncing back to full strength in time for graduation so she could still take the lead position in taking down the Mayor. It was a little iffy but she'd managed it before so there was no reason she couldn't do it again. The worst case scenario was that she'd be weak as a kitten for a couple days, forcing them to rewrite any plans they might have had bouncing around inside their heads to compensate for the missing Slayer. He seriously hoped it wasn't the latter because with him still on the mend it'd all ride on the newly healed Deadboy to do the heavy lifting. Considering the fact that graduation was happening during the daytime, Angel would have to stick to the shade. The only shred of hope was that things'd follow the usual route dark rituals went and either spontaneously generate some storm clouds or bring about an eclipse.

Of course if that happened then it'd also mean that any vamps on the Mayor's payroll would also be able to come out and play, putting the numbers against the Scoobies.

 _Here's to your health,_ he thought as they finally got permission to see Buffy. _For all of our sakes._

 _ **Sunnydale High School, Library, Willow's POV**_

"That's the basic plan," Buffy said as she laid out the plan she had in mind for graduation day. "So… am I crazy?"

It'd been a huge weight off their shoulders to see Buffy walk out of nowhere looking under her own power albeit looking visibly weak but not quite teetering on her feet. She'd asked about Angel but Oz had told her that he'd left a while ago to avoid sunrise. It'd been then that the blonde Slayer had given the call to bring everyone in because she was finally ready to go to war hardcore style. They'd all gotten into their cars and reconvened at the library, waiting only a dozen or so minutes for the others to get there thanks to the wonder that was the cell phone. Once everyone was assembled Buffy laid out a plan that even he had to admit was pushing the envelope pretty far, even for a Slayer.

"Well, 'crazy's' a strong word—" she said, not wanting to take the wrong side.

"Let's not rule it out, though," Giles said, cleaning his glasses and looking a little taken aback.

"You don't think it can be done." Buffy said, looking at her former Watcher.

"I didn't say that," Giles said putting his glasses back on. "I might, but I haven't yet."

"Okay, well, I personally don't think it's possible to come up with a crazier plan." Cordy declared with her usual lack of tact.

"We attack the Mayor with hummus." Oz proposed with his usual lack of emotion or telling expression.

"I stand corrected," Cordy said, looking like she couldn't believe someone had actually taken her up on her dare.

"Just keeping things in perspective." Oz said, stepping back to let things continue.

"Thank you. My point, however, is crazy or not, it's pretty much the only plan." Cordelia said with reasonable politeness. "Besides, it's Buffy's and she's slay-gal, you know. Miss Like-to-fight, so…"

"I think there was a 'yea' vote buried in there somewhere," Xander said, falling into his old routine with Cordy in terms of verbal sparring.

"Well, I need you all on board. Especially you, Xander," Buffy said, looking at her best bud. "You're kind of the key to this figure here."

Everyone was a bit surprised but Xander was the most thrown.

"Key? Me? Okay, pride… humility… and here's the mind numbing fear," Xander said, using humor like always to cover up what he was really feeling. "What do I have to do?"

"Do you still remember any of your military training from when you became soldier guy?" Buffy asked, sounding like it was important that he did.

"Ooh! Rocket launcher?" he asked, guessing that that is what she wanted him to get for her.

"Rocket launcher's not gonna get it done." Buffy replied, shaking her head in the negative. "It took a volcano to kill one of these things last time."

"Buffy, all of this is dependent on your being able to control the Mayor." Giles said, reminding his former Slayer of one of the critical components of the plan. "How do you plan to do that?"

"Faith told me I'd have to play on his human weakness," Buffy replied, sounding a little off. "That's the way I'm gonna get to him."

"Faith told you?" she asked, unable to understand how the treacherous Slayer could tell anyone anything in a coma. "Was that before or after you put her in a coma?"

"After." Buffy replied, not surprised at the question.

"Oh," she said before writing it down in her mind as just another bit of Hellmouthy craziness.

"The Mayor's weakness," Giles said, looking like he was contemplating what the weakness could be.

"Right," Buffy said, confirming what she'd already told them.

"Which is what?" Giles asked, looking like he was hoping for some elaboration.

"You know, I do all this planning, I'm in charge even though I'm not feeling my best, and now I'm supposed to come up with every little detail…" Buffy said defensively, proving conclusively that while occasionally possessing some strategic talent, she still had much to learn.

Looking at the rest of the Scoobies, she could see that, like her, it felt kinda good to see their friend falling back into her usual ways despite the significant blood loss. After the moment passed, though, it was time for them to see if they could develop the idea Buffy had presented before them a little further.

"Well, let us think," Giles suggested before allowing them all to do just that.

"Angel, you hung out with him the most," Oz said, turning to the souled vampire standing far away from the windows. "Is he afraid of something?"

"Well, he's not crazy about germs—" Angel replied, sounding skeptical about that being useful to them.

"Of course!" Cordy exclaimed as though the metaphorical light bulb had just popped on above her head. "That's it! We attack him with germs!"

"Great," Buffy said sarcastically with a roll of her eyes. "We'll get him cornered and then you sneeze on him."

"No, no, we get a canister of ebola virus, and, and, or it doesn't have to be real, we could just have a box that says 'ebola' on it, and we could chase him… with the box…" Cordy said, sounding really enthused at the start before realizing that she wasn't going to sell anyone on this plan.

"Okay, I'm starting to lean towards the hummus offensive," Xander said, clearly believing it had a better chance of working than Cordelia's plan.

"He'll never see it coming…" Oz said, not giving anything away with his voice or his face.

"Faith." Angel said suddenly but with a look that implied he thought he might be onto something.

Everyone looked to him when they began to think the same thing, though their interest would die a quick death if they didn't get more details.

"Faith. You think?" Buffy asked, a little uncertain about her ex-boyfriend's suggestion.

"At the hospital, he was grieving," Angel replied, sounding more sure with every word he spoke. "Seriously crazed, and not just in a homicidal, I-wanna-be-a-demon way. She's his weak link."

Buffy looked to be thinking on that for a moment but a minute later she nodded, having reached a decision.

"Okay. Good. I can work with that," she said, looking like she had a plan and was confident about it.

"You haven't an enormous amount of time," came a voice no one present save Cordelia want to hear even a peep of at the moment.

Turning towards the entrance to the library, she saw Wesley standing there looking like he knew he wasn't welcome but at the same time thought he should be with them.

"Hey, it's Mister States-the-Obvious!" Xander declared with heavy sarcasm.

"The Council isn't welcome here," Buffy said in a very final manner yet with a bit of snark. "I got no time for orders. If I need someone to scream like a woman, I'll give you a call."

"I'm not here for the Council," Wesley protested before coming across as genuinely honest. "Just tell me how I can help."

This was a bit of a shock because, if there was one thing that'd been a constant from day one with Giles' replacement from the Council, it was that the young Brit didn't have a single original thought that his bosses didn't put there. It'd been obvious to them that the reason Wesley had been chosen was because he was blindly obedient to his bosses no matter what orders were handed down. To suddenly be confronted with a Wesley that wasn't whining for them to listen to him and actually sounded like he wanted to help… was something of a curveball.

"Oh, you are SO classy." Cordelia said in awe before turning to the rest of them. "Isn't he just so classy?"

"It's a start," Buffy said, sounding like she thought the man had just taken a step in the right direction.

"So there is something I can do?" Wesley asked, looking hopeful at the blonde Slayer's comment. "Besides scream like a woman?"

"There's plenty. Chores for everyone," Buffy said before addressing the group as a whole. "Okay, this is how it's going to lay out: if I remember right the sun's going bye-bye once the curtain goes up."

"'Darkness will follow, the day become night…'" Wesley quoted from one of the books they'd been reading researching for info on the Ascension.

"An eclipse," Buffy said, putting forth what she thought it meant.

"That puts me back in the game." Angel said, looking glad that he wouldn't be sidelined.

"Yes, it does. I need you and Xander working in sync here," Buffy said before looking back and forth between the two guys. "Can you guys handle that?"

Personally she thought it was a bit iffy and it'd only get worse with every bit of snark that got flung one way or the other. Xander hated vampires. Simple as that. The only reason he didn't raise too big a stink about Angel working with them was because he knew that neither she nor Buffy would like it if he made too big of a deal about it or tried to stake the souled vampire. Could the two of them work together? Probably.

"I'm still Key Guy, right?" Xander asked, looking like he was worried that he'd been demoted in less than ten minutes.

"Right," Buffy replied with a nod of her head.

"Great, then Angel—in his non-Key Guy capacity—can work with me." Xander said with a smile and she could tell he loved the fact that he had something over on his former romantic rival.

"What fun." Angel said in perfect deadpan.

"Hey, Key Guy's talking—" Xander said, already trying to put his authority to use.

"Oh, good, let's bicker!" Buffy exclaimed with sharp humor. "That'll work great. You're like little old ladies."

Even she had to admit that when Xander and Angel got into it they did sound like a pair of cranky old women bickering with each other.

"Let's get this done people." Buffy said, looking at each of them in turn conveying the seriousness of the situation with every word.

With that each of them began to divide up to handle their respective tasks as the Slayer handed them out. It was a tall order for them, with many of the jobs being attempted for the first time, but that was nothing new. Ever since she'd first met Buffy she'd experienced something new every other day so, while there was still some anxiety, fear and doubt, she had the confidence to push on through.

All of them would do their best and just like before they'd come out on top.

Somehow.

 _ **Harris House, Xander's Room, Xander's POV**_

It was not the prettiest of sights but he came out of it better than he had any right to, considering the fact that he hadn't been in prime condition for the post graduation Ascension. With only one good arm and a body that was feeling numb despite the painkillers he'd been given beforehand, he'd been at a disadvantage. Thankfully a Winchester 1887 shotgun and as much ammo as he could possibly carry without it being a hindrance proved to be enough to keep him from becoming vampire chow or the newly ascended Mayor's first meal. Nevertheless he considered it something of a small miracle that none of the Scoobies had died… even if some of the students who'd been fighting hadn't been so lucky. He didn't know the exact number of dead but he knew that at least Harmony, Larry and Principal Snyder were definitely going to need gravestones before the week was out.

 _Still, it could've been a lot worse,_ he thought as he tried to imagine what'd have happened if the explosives hadn't gone off when they were supposed to or if none of the other students had fallen in line.

If it'd been the Scoobies alone and the explosives hadn't gone off, the Mayor would've steamrolled over the whole lot of them before gobbling up everything edible he could've gotten his snakey mouth around. Animals, people and some of the more tasty demons would've been on the menu as the ascended human worked his way up to the pinnacle of his pure demon power. Would it have been the end of the world? Probably not because one demon, no matter the size, would not be able to face off against the entire arsenal of the United States military. After all back in the day the Old Ones had never seen a nuclear weapon, never mind find out whether or not they had the ability to withstand such an explosion. Most likely, until he gathered an army or mastered whatever arcane powers he had, Wilkins would create a buffer zone around his claimed territory. Using whatever demons still lived to patrol the borders and repel any invading force, the Mayor would grow in strength until no one would be able to stop him.

 _I know it probably doesn't mean much from the other side guys but… yours were lives spent,_ he thought as he turned away from the mirror he'd been inspecting himself with. _Not wasted._

It'd been a little over three weeks since the Battle of Graduation Day and, while he would've preferred to have been out on the road for his cross country trip a week ago the doctors had insisted he wait. According to them, the wounds from Faith's beating needed to heal a bit more before it'd be safe for him to drive and it had the plus of giving the few scrapes he picked up afterwards time to heal too.

Now he was good to go and had his bag packed for the trip.

All he needed was his car.

He'd come home from the battle to find his car with more than a few dings as well as the back window bashed all the way in. Seeing as how non-demonic crime was virtually nonexistent in Sunnydale, he knew that it could only have been Tony Harris who'd busted it up in one of his drunken rages. Why the man, and he used the term loosely, had felt the need to vent his anger on his car he'd been unable to figure out but he had known that he wasn't going to drive across the USA with that kind of damage. So he'd called his Uncle Rory and asked the man to come pick it up, drive it back to his garage and do what he could to get rid of the dings as well as replace the window. Fortunately, while not a saint, Rory was a good enough person that he'd done as asked and today was the day for the pickup.

Walking as silently as he dared down the hallway, he found it a pain in the ass that he had to get up this early but it was the only way he could be sure to get out the door without either of his DNA contributors noticing. Sure, they were probably sleeping off last night's booze but he'd learned the hard way in the past that it was hard to predict just how out of it they'd be as well as what could wake them up. He'd gotten some extra practice in the area of creeping thanks to going out on patrol with Buffy so he considered it time well spent when he succeeded in making it down the stairs and to the door. With a careful click he unlocked the door and slipped through the gap.

He didn't bother pulling the door closed again afterwards since he figured since the sun was up Tony and Jessica would be safe enough.

As he walked his way in the general direction of Rory's place, he wondered what exactly he'd do first once he was out on the road. It wasn't like he had a list of places he planned on visiting or a map with a route laid out. Sure, there were some popular tourist spots and some famous cities he planned on visiting but nothing more than that. Maybe Rory would know some places in California that were worth seeing before he went someplace else looking to see what there was to see.

The giggle of a little five year old girl walking side by side with her mother brought him out of his thoughts as the duo strolled down the street, completely carefree. He couldn't help but grin at the sight because it was sights like these that made fighting the good fight worthwhile: knowing that because of him and the Scoobies the clueless people could continue living their lives in peace. All the bangs, scrapes and hospital time were worth it if no one else'd lose their brother like he lost Jesse. He knew they couldn't save everyone, couldn't be everywhere at once, but if they managed to hold off Armageddon then that was a whole lot of lives saved in one fell swoop. It'd balance the scales and keep the number of people they saved higher than the amount of people that'd never see their families again because no one was there to save them.

 _Makes me wish there was some way to take the blinders off of everyone's eyes._

He was certain that if demons and vamps became public knowledge, it wouldn't just be the Watcher's Council, whatever obscure divisions the major governments had and vigilante groups like the Scoobies fighting the good fight. Police, military and every person willing to stand up to do the right thing would take it to the monsters that preyed upon those allied to the light. Together they'd be able to root out every demon, every vampire and every species traitor kicking them out of the dimension or putting them into unmarked graves. Sure, some of the people in authority and some bleeding hearts would probably want to treat the nonhumans like criminals but he figured a few screw ups would blow that delusion clear out of their heads.

 _Yeah… and while I'm at it maybe I should wish for world peace and the cures for every major disease on the planet._

The same monsters he wanted to take down were the creatures that'd been smart enough to bribe, blackmail, intimidate or somehow control key people to keep their existence confined to myth. Like the saying went, 'the best trick the devil ever pulled was convincing the world he didn't exist'. Anonymity, being invisible, was vital to the power the demons held and they knew it. So any time it looked like some credible proof might make its way into the public eye, they made sure it disappeared and the people responsible for getting it vanished.

At least that's how he had it figured.

It didn't take more than fifteen minutes for him to get to the front gates of Uncle Rory's property and, after pushing the buzzer, he waited for the only semi-respectable member of the Harris line to come let him in. Looking through the holes in the gate, he could see that Rory had a smattering of cars on the lot that looked to be in various stages of repair but none of them looked like they were beyond hope. It was a decent living, taking vehicles that most people thought were beyond repair and making them look like new, and Rory had been doing it for a little over ten years. Sure, the profit wasn't all that great since almost every dollar either went back into the business or into paying the bills but it was an honest day's work. Rory had definitely been at it longer than any job Tony or Jessica had ever been hired on for and that spoke volumes when it came to the rest of the Harris clan.

"Well you're lookin' better." Came a deep voice he knew all too well. "How's the arm?"

"No pain, no problem Unc," he replied, seeing his uncle walking towards him.

He loved his uncle but there was one little quirk that had him grinning every time they met: the man was a true blue 'Magnum P.I' fanatic. He had closets full of Hawaiian shirts, had the mustache on his face and had his hair done up just like Tom Selleck had his done in the TV show. Sure, Rory looked like Magnum in his fifties but that didn't stop the man from dressing the same way every day and keeping the mustache.

"Sounds good," Rory said with a smile as he pressed a button that opened the gate. "You know it's a good thing Tony busted up your car the way he did."

"Really? I thought you said that you're gonna personally kick his ass for abusing such a classic." he said, walking up to his uncle and shaking his hand like they always did.

"I was until I decided to give it a once over to make sure that asshole brother of mine didn't do more damage than we were seeing." Rory said as they began to walk towards the garage where the car was waiting. "Good thing I did, 'cause there was damage that would've had you smoking to a stop just short of Oxnard. I don't know how he did it but Tony managed to crack a cylinder head. You would've been able to make it out of town fine enough but halfway to Oxnard you would've noticed something was up and then the engine would've given out with you getting a mouthful of smoke."

"Damn. Gonna cost extra?" he asked, knowing they'd agreed on a price when his uncle had picked up the car.

"Nah. You're family, besides it would've been a shot to my pride as a mechanic to let you drive out of Sunnydale with a cracked cylinder head." Rory replied, sounding like he'd have been in a mood for a week if that'd happened.

"Then here's the money for the work," he said as he pulled a wad of money from his back pocket and slapped it into his uncle's hands.

Rory took a look at the money, counted out about a third of it then held it out for him to take.

"What's this?" he asked, not understanding why his uncle would return the money.

"My contribution to your road trip," Rory replied, shaking the money as if insisting that he take it. "Travelling isn't cheap and I want you to get as far as you can before snagging a temp job to boost your funds back up."

"I can manage, Unc. You earned this money. Keep it," he said, not wanting to take charity or deprive he man of his hard earned money.

"Just take the damn money, Xander!" Rory ordered, starting to sound a little annoyed. "You're already a better man than Tony ever was. You don't need to turn down presents to prove it. Just take it in the spirit its being given."

For a moment he considered refusing again but a glare from Rory finally made him take the third of his payment back and put it into his pocket.

"Fine, but I'm getting you a good present from my road trip to balance things out."

"Whatever." Rory said as they reached their destination.

Looking at his car, it looked good as new with only faint signs that it'd ever been banged up in the first place. It was the one thing you could always say about his Uncle Rory: the man did quality work. Doing a quick walk around, he had to admit that, while his car might not be what most teens dreamt of buying one day, that didn't change the fact that it was his. A little slice of freedom he could enjoy so long as it had a tank full of gas and kept up the necessary maintenance. He might change the color, add some accessories on the inside, but aside from that he'd keep the girl just as she was.

"Filled her up before you got here," Rory said, tossing him the keys from next to the rack where quite a few were hanging. "You have fun and try not to get into more trouble than you can get out of."

"Hey, you know me, Unc: I don't go looking for trouble-" he said with a tone of familiarity.

"-It just seems to know where to find you." Rory said with a smile and equal familiarity.

A sloppy salute later between the two of them put an end to the goodbyes and he opened the driver's side door tossing his bag inside before following it in. With the turn of a key the engine came to life and, while it was an impressive rumble like most manly car engines, it was still pleasing to hear.

"See you on the flipside Unc." He shifted the car into reverse, "Stay safe."

With that he was gone and taking the first steps on a trip that'd make sure that when he returned to Sunnydale, he'd be a different man.

And so it begins.

Neither member of the Harris family noticed that perched on a tree overlooking the elder Harris' business was a large bird, larger than any that avian experts had ever classified, with multicolored wings and two curling horns on either side of its head. It watched as the car drove out of its field of vision with intelligent eyes and then took to the air for it had important news to convey to a friend.

It was a time that he had been told to watch for since the travelers crossed the Atlantic centuries ago.

To the humans below there was no bird in the air but rather dark clouds that were beginning to form and winds that had once been a gentle breeze were growing in strength.

Such was the way of a world that no longer believed in the old ways.

Such was the way of a world where only a few still spoke his name and followed the traditional practices.

Contrary to what some of his kin often said it was necessary in order for the humans to grow strong and while they would no longer be worshipped they would never be forgotten.

Note: Yes I know that this wasn't all that much different from the canon episode please keep in mind that this is a push off point. Things will get better I promise you. I just needed a departure point to get the ball rolling. Plus the sharper among you will have no doubt spotted some of my little clues so hopefully they'd snagged your interest. Please be patient and I'll do my best to make sure you're rewarded.


	2. An Opportunity Appears

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the copyrighted material contained herein. They are the rightful property of their respective creators and/or associated companies. I make no profit from this whatsoever and I have no intention of changing this at any point in the future. I write because it's fun and because there are those who enjoy reading my work.

 _ **The Highway, Hours Later, Xander's POV**_

Seeing the sign for the off ramp into Oxnard go by, he once more complimented his uncle's work since it would've been a bad start to his summer road trip if he'd wound up getting stuck while a local mechanic tried to put things back together. No telling what it would've cost him to repair the car but he figured it was a safe bet that whoever did it would charge more than his Uncle Rory had. He'd managed to save up quite a bit for this trip but that was with the intention of rationing it out as much as possible and keeping his spending to the essentials. Eventually he'd run low and need to find a job that only lasted a week or a month before moving on to his next destination. In the weeks prior he'd done what he could to research what sort of jobs he'd be able to apply for and then, just before the mess with Angel being poisoned, he'd had Willow pick out job ads in the direction he was heading. Odds were most of them would be taken by the time he got there but if even one was still available that'd be good enough for him.

With Oxnard behind him he wondered how much longer he should drive before turning in for some rest. Heading for Los Angeles seemed to be a decent enough idea and he'd always been curious about checking out Buffy's old stomping grounds. She certainly talked about L.A. enough that he figured he could find some of her old hangouts and then he could see if they were really as good as she'd made them out to be. He wouldn't check out any of the places that were strictly for girls but anyplace frequented by both genders would be fair game. That meant shopping malls, some of the more popular shopping districts and wherever some of the better restaurants and cafes could be found.

He'd just gone past Camarillo and was continuing down the Ventura Freeway towards Newbury Park when he spotted a car off to the side of the road. It caught his attention because it was his favorite color red and looked like it cost more than he'd make working full time for five years. He didn't see any smoke coming from it and, the closer he got, the more he was sure it hadn't been in an accident since he couldn't see any dents or broken glass. What clinched it as being someone from the upper class was the fact that there was one guy, two ladies and all of them wearing clothes that belonged on the red carpet of a big budget movie premiere. From the looks of it the guy was trying to make a call with his cell phone but, judging from the way he was walking and holding it, he wasn't having much luck.

 _Two smokin' ladies, a car that won't run and no reception on the cell phone._ He began to slow down. _Guess it's time for me to play the Good Samaritan._

He just hoped this didn't turn out to be one of those 'pretend to be broken down then rob/kill the first idiot who decides to stop to help' cases because that'd really suck.

"You guys need any help?" he asked as he brought his car to a stop.

"Gee! Let me see!" the blonde woman of the pair said in a tone of exasperated anger. "This loser's car just DIED, his cell phone WON'T WORK and we're going to MISS the BIGGEST party of the year! So YEAH I think we could use some help!"

"Chill out, Ronnie!" the guy said with annoyance born of listening to the blonde for more than ten minutes of ranting. "I set up a meet with Tom once I can do it again. Trust me!"

"Please! You think I haven't heard the talk?" Ronnie asked rhetorically, with more than a little bite. "The high rollers are already talkin' about who to start grooming to replace you. When that happens it's only a matter of time before you stop getting phone calls. Understand now?!"

"You don't know what you're talkin' about," the guy said, not even considering what he'd been told. "'HWAAAAA!', 'Sudden Violence' and 'Power Rangers'? Those names right a bell? No way are they gonna turn their backs on star power like that!"

Those titles struck a chord with him but for the life of him he couldn't remember whether they were movies, TV shows or videogames. Still, the fact that he could remember them at all, considering how busy they'd been the last three years, meant they must've gotten a lot of advertising or been the topic of the month. If this guy was such a major player then the only way his career would get tanked would be if he'd gotten type casted or did something so scandal worthy that no A-list studio would touch him.

"I'm going as far as L.A. then sticking around for a week or so before moving on," he said, not particularly wanting to hear the duo gripe all night. "So you want the ride or should I just stop at the next garage with a tow truck and tell them where to find you?"

"Oh ENOUGH! The two of you can stand here and bitch all night but I'm going home!" the African American woman, the second of the duo the guy had been standing with, said before briskly walking up to the passenger side door and getting in.

He had to admit that she coulda been mistaken for Halle Berry's sister since he could pick out several facial traits that were identical to the famous actress and she definitely had a matching body. Her dress definitely screamed superstar but, just like Buffy and Willow had taught him, he didn't let his eyes linger where they shouldn't. Turning his gaze to the other two, he waited to see if they'd waste more time arguing or if they'd do the smart thing and get into his car.

It turned out the prospect of being out in the middle of nowhere for God knew how long didn't appeal to them as both got into the backseat of his car. Shifting into gear he pulled back onto the freeway, continuing on his way towards L.A at just a little above the posted speed limit. He probably wouldn't be able to get them there in time for their party but maybe it'd be in time for them to make a few last minute phone calls before heading to bed.

After a couple of minutes the lady whose name he didn't know but was sitting next to him decided that the silence had gone on long enough.

"So why you travelling?" the African American woman asked out of idle curiosity. "Going to see some friends?"

"Nah. Just graduated from high school so I thought I'd do the whole road trip thing," he replied while keeping his eyes on the road. "See all fifty-one states and maybe figure out what I want to do for a living."

"I remember doing the same thing after I got out of high school," the guy in the backseat said with happy nostalgia. "All I had was my dad's old motorcycle, three days worth of clothes and five hundred dollars. Didn't get to see every state in the country but what I did get to see definitely made it worth it."

"Sounds like I'm making the right call then," he said, feeling a little more confident about his decision to spend some time away from Sunnydale. "Got any suggestions about where I should go?"

"Well, no trip is worth taking without a stop in Las Vegas," the guy said, now firmly reminiscing about the past. "The place has a hundred things to do and see. After that you should spin by Chandler, Arizona before going over to Aspen, Colorado because even if it's not ski season it's got other things to make it worth the trip. You'll probably need to get a job by then to fund the next leg of your trip by the time your done there and then after that it's off to San Marcos, Texas."

"I'm callin' bullshit on that, Johnny." Ronnie said, not quite as snippy as before. "I know you got those places reading the 'Top Ten places with the sexiest women' in that magazine ya got from Leo last week."

"I really did go to all those places for my road trip," Johnny said in defense of his suggestions. "Just because that magazine had a near identical list in it doesn't mean anything."

"They're more than what I had planned before," he said, not wanting to hear another argument between the two.

Indeed he hadn't actually made a list of places he wanted to visit on his road trip even though he had a few names bouncing around his head. He'd thought that it'd be more fun to just let random chance decide what direction he'd go in on any given day. It wasn't that he believed in something like fate or destiny because, let's face it, he'd spit in the face of both concepts far too often for that to be the case. It's just that he saw it as a roll of the dice and, while there was a chance to get snake eyes, there was also a chance for you to hit the jackpot.

Considering the fact that he'd lived on a literal deathtrap since the day he was born and for the last three years had survived things that should've killed him, he liked his odds.

Hours passed as he continued to drive them to L.A and most of it was filled with idle chatter and a few suggestions from the ladies about where he should go on his trip. The African American woman's name was Bonnie of all things, making him wonder if Johnny had chosen the ladies as dates based solely on the fact that all their names rhymed. Still, it was nice to know the names of the people he was giving a lift to even if it wasn't likely that they'd be seeing each other again. His three passengers obviously belonged to a crowd that even Cordy'd have trouble mingling with before the Chase family got audited. There was no way a middle class boy like himself would ever get into one of their parties, even if it was just as a member of the catering staff.

When they hit L.A. the girls gave him directions to their apartments and soon it was just him and Johnny riding around in the car.

"They were pretty sweet weren't they?" Johnny asked with a smile that all self-proclaimed ladies men used when bragging about their latest conquests.

"They were nice," he replied, admitting that in terms of beauty and personality they were better than the Cordettes back in high school.

"Nice? They were SMOKIN'!" Johnny exclaimed as though unable to believe that he'd gotten such a mediocre response. "Tonight's party would've earned me a grand slammer from both of them. Guess I'll have to take a rain check on that."

 _Great! One of THOSE._ He rolled his eyes as he realized that Johnny was the kind of guy that saw women as nothing more than a good sweaty time in bed.

Too bad the man saw his eye roll.

"Oh, don't roll your eyes at me like that," Johnny said as though other people had done the same thing to him. "I ain't like those guys who don't respect women and just see them as screw toys. I'm just saying that spending some quality time with the ladies isn't a bad way to enjoy an evening."

"Well maybe if you treated them with a little respect and dialed back the cockiness you'd do even better with the ladies," he said as the traffic light turned green. "The whole 'I know you're more than a rack and a tight ass' routine really helps you get on their good side."

"Hey, I can be totally respectful when it comes to ladies," Johnny said, almost managing to be convincing. "But when you're in showbiz you gotta be prepared to walk the walk and talk the talk. Sometimes that means talkin' about their sex appeal first."

"Makes me glad I'm not in showbiz then," he said, realizing that the life of a celebrity was probably a lot like the rich crowd was back in Sunnydale.

It was all about making connections, figuring out who the right people to know were and the people you could use to your advantage to get one rung higher on the social ladder. Friendship rarely figured into things and there were probably a ton of people who'd pretend to be your friend for the benefits then cast you aside when you were of no further use to them. Seemed like an awful lonely life not being able to trust anyone around you because you didn't know if they were being honest or just using you.

The rest of the trip passed in mostly silence, with Johnny only speaking to tell him which way to turn at each intersection. As they progressed he noticed that the properties on the streets were getting bigger and more expensive looking with every one that went by. He'd known from the moment he'd seen Johnny that the guy had to be a pretty big name in Hollywood but he'd figured that'd just meant a step or two above how rich the Chase family'd been. Looking around he was seeing things that Cordy's parents only WISHED they could own until finally they arrived at a set of massive gates with the letters J and C at the center.

"Hey Gerry! Open up! It's me!" Johnny yelled at a security camera that was screwed into the brick wall to the left of the gate.

Less than a minute later the gate parted and he drove through, proceeding up the driveway towards the mansion. It hurt his brain to try and figure out just how much it would've cost to build it all from scratch or how much it would've cost someone to buy it from the local real estate agent.

 _The guy can afford all this but can't keep his car running or buy a decent cell phone,_ he thought as he brought the car to a stop at the front steps.

"Well, it's been nice meeting ya, Johnny," he said as the rich man got out of the car.

"Same here, Xander." Johnny said as he began to make his way towards the front door.

The door to the mansion opened to reveal a man in his late fifties or early sixties and based on his garb he definitely fit the bill for a butler.

"Good to see you home safely, Master Cage."

"Dammit, Gerald! How many times do I have to tell you to call me Johnny?!" Johnny asked with exasperation, implying that this was an old conversation.

"At least once more, Master Cage." Gerald replied with a hint of a smirk on his face.

Johnny…

…Cage.

Johnny Cage.

JOHNNY CAGE!

"YOU'RE JOHNNY FREAKIN' CAGE!" he exclaimed as he realized that he'd been driving one of the biggest action stars of the last seven years.

He hadn't seen one of the man's films in the last three years because of the slayage and because of the rising price in theatre tickets so it was no wonder that he hadn't recognized the actor at first glance. Now, though, there was no mistaking who he was looking at and no trouble recognizing the smirk on Johnny's face.

"Yep! The one and only!" Johnny said, looking like he was quite amused by his reaction. "Say, why don't you stay here tonight? We got the room and it'll save you a couple of dollars."

STAY…at the mansion of a big time action star!?

"Sounds like a plan to me, Johnny!" he replied with a smile as he got out of his car and grabbed his bag. "Thanks!"

If there was one thing he'd learned early on in life it was to NEVER pass up an opportunity like this when it came your way.

 _ **The Next Day**_

 _ **Johhny Cage's POV**_

 _Fifty-One…Fifty-Two…Fifty-Three!_ he thought as he continued doing the one armed push ups that were a part of his morning warm up routine.

He was going at it a bit harder than usual thanks to what Ronnie had said last night bouncing around inside his head, even if he didn't believe a word of it. Talking smack about your 'colleagues' was all part of the game in Hollywood. Sometimes you did it just for laughs and other times you did it because the person you were talking about was a threat to your career. There were even times when you did it for no other reason than it'd get you mentioned on TV or in all the necessary magazines. Like the saying went there was no such thing as bad publicity. As long as you were in the media you weren't forgotten and, as long as no one forgot you, there was always a chance that you'll get a job offer.

People liked a good villain almost as much as they liked a good hero.

He should've been able to shake it off with a good night's sleep but the second he woke up there it was clear as day and just as annoying as it'd been the night before. It didn't make sense since he'd just finished filming the season finale of 'Wu Shu' two weeks ago and his last movie 'Who's That?' was still going strong overseas. In fact later today he was due down at Maestro Studios to talk with the players there and his agent about his next big movie role. They hadn't told him what it'd be but his agent hadn't steered him wrong yet when it came to choosing the best roles for him on the best big budget pictures. Max knew that if he screwed up and chose the wrong jobs for him it'd hurt him too since the contract between the two of them made it clear that the agent's pay was a fixed percentage of whatever he got from each job. Sure, there were some sub-clauses that said if his agent didn't get him a new job within eight months he was required to pay Max a minimum of half his usual pay.

The usual pay being the average of the amount made from the last six jobs he'd managed to negotiate.

Fortunately for him it'd never come to that.

Finishing his pushups he got up to his feet and moved over to the weights to start doing some one arm curls, after which he'd move onto something more difficult. He wasn't like some of those other so-called action stars who only worked out as much as they absolutely had to in order to look ripped and chiseled. He was a real fighter! He'd trained under masters of Jeet Kune Do and Karate, giving it his all with each one until he'd mastered both of the styles. After that he'd done the pro martial arts tournaments until Max had found him and suggested he take the leap into showbiz, claiming he had both the looks as well as the skills to make it.

There he was ten years later, one of the top names in Hollywood with more money in his bank account than the national military budget.

It was an hour later that he finished his workout and arrived in the kitchen to find his spur of the moment guest enjoying one of Gerald's culinary masterpiece breakfasts. He couldn't help but smirk since he had to admit it felt good to do a good deed now and again, especially since he didn't have a lot of freedom to do what he wanted thanks to his celebrity status. Being a star meant that you couldn't go anywhere without someone recognizing you and, with the paparazzi dogging your step looking to attach their names to a major scoop, one wrong movie could run roughshod over your career. You could act like the perfect gentleman, do the right thing no problem, and yet one picture taken in the wrong context could make you out to be lower than pond scum. He'd seen actors and actresses with promising futures get blacklisted from the entire entertainment industry because one photographer, cameraman or reporter caught them doing something and twisted it until they got the headline they wanted. If only one or two tabloid rags ran the story, it was feasible to come out more or less unscathed but if even one reputable source of media put the story to print… people would take it seriously.

Seriously as in 'the local P.D paying you a visit' or getting handed a summons to appear in court for one reason or another.

That was why he was expecting to get a lecture from his agent and his lawyer about taking a ride from a stranger, then offering that stranger a room for the night. It wasn't that he didn't understand Max's point of view, being a celebrity didn't always attract the best class of people, but sometimes he felt like he had to ask for permission to use the bathroom or wipe his own ass. So when the opportunity to assert his own free will and independence presented itself in the form of a Good Samaritan, he'd taken it without hesitation.

"You got any of that fine food for me, Gerald?" he asked, getting the attention of both people in front of him.

"Of course, sir," Gerald said from his place washing the dishes. "I put it in the oven to keep it warm."

"Nice!" he said walking over to the oven and opening it to find a delicious looking meal.

Taking it out he moved over to the table taking a seat to the right of Xander and began digging into his, meal savoring every bite. Gerald might give him lip from time to time and occasionally ignore some of his orders, but the man could not only cook but clean up the place no matter how wild a party he held. The most respectable part of it all was the fact that the man didn't ask for an outrageous salary for his services and he'd never once had reason to suspect the man of stealing from him or feeding private facts to the media. He'd asked Gerald about it once and he said that he was a professional who took pride in his work and considered those who betrayed their employers to be utter disgraces. In fact there were times when the man got particularly colorful with his opinion of those disgraceful people, even if he immediately apologized for his outburst after getting it off his chest.

He always had a good laugh when that happened.

"So how you like seeing how the other half live, Xander?" he asked as he finished his breakfast and washed it down with a glass of milk.

"To be honest I was afraid of touching anything in case I broke it and wound up having to work for you the rest of my life to pay it off," Xander said with a lopsided grin and an amused tone of voice. "Still, it's one helluva a way to start off my road trip!"

"I'll bet!" he said, wondering what his own road trip would've been like if he'd gotten to stay at some movie star's mansion.

"Will Mister Harris be staying with us for the foreseeable future, Master Cage?" Gerald asked in his usual proper and polite tone.

Honestly he hadn't thought a whole lot about it since it had been a spur of the moment thing last night. He didn't really know Xander since it was impossible to get to know someone from a single car trip but, from what he did know, the kid looked to be your average teenage high school graduate. One could say that he'd already done his good deed with the one night stay and use of the facilities here at his mansion but he honestly felt like doing more. Still, it was Xander's call so he'd leave it in the kid's hands.

"What do you say, kid?" he asked, not giving away what he was feeling one way or another.

"Well… I wouldn't want to be a problem," Xander replied, looking like he didn't want to overstay his welcome. "Plus I'm sure you've got scenes to shoot and autograph sessions to attend."

"Aside from a meeting this afternoon I'm pretty much clear for the rest of the week," he said, conveying that he didn't have any pressing engagements scheduled. "Besides, even if I can't be here, I'm sure Gerald would like the company. Ain't that right, Gerald?"

"Anyone would be an improvement over you, Master Cage," Gerald replied with a barely perceivable smirk on his wrinkled face.

"You really know how to make a boss feel appreciated, Gerry," he said with a shake of his head and a grin.

"I do try my best, Master Cage," Gerald said as he finished the dishes and began to roll down his sleeves.

 _Don't ever change, Gerry,_ he thought with a smile as he hoped that he'd have a great many years more to spend with the old man.

"So what's your answer?" he asked, deciding that they'd beat around the bush for long enough.

"My answer is that I'll stay for as long as you'll have me or until I decide it's time to get back on the road," Xander replied after a moment of thought. "Just be real blunt when you want me to leave, 'cause subtlety has a habit of going WAY over my head."

"Don't worry," he said with a smile on his face. "If there's one thing I can say about myself it's that I speak my mind and pull no punches."

"Of that I can attest to, Mister Harris," Gerald said once his uniform/suit was put fully back into place.

"Call me Xander," Xander said, wincing a bit at the words Mister Harris. "Whenever someone calls me Mister Harris I look around for my dad."

"Very well, Alexander." Gerald said with an acknowledging bow.

He was going to look forward to the coming days.

 _ **The Mansion of Johnny Cage, Late Afternoon**_

 _ **Xander's POV**_

 _Well this is definitely going to be something to write home about,_ he thought, making a note to grab a postcard right before leaving L.A so he could send it back to the Scoobies.

He'd stayed at Johnny's mansion for the day while the action star had gone to some studio to negotiate for some new role in some new movie. He'd asked the movie star what it was called but Johnny had said he didn't know and wouldn't until probably halfway through the meeting. Before going out the door his temporary landlord had told his butler to give him full run of the place and to check in to see if he needed anything every once in awhile. After Johnny had left he'd told Gerald that he wouldn't need much and that he'd try not to make a mess anywhere that'd need cleaning up. The butler had told him that it was unlikely that he could make a mess bigger than any he'd dealt with since being hired by 'Master Cage'.

What followed was a string of stories about some of the things that'd happened in the mansion or on the grounds since it was bought by one Johnny Cage eight years ago. Not all at once, mind you, but rather spread out over the course of a day usually focusing on wherever the butler found him at the time. When he chose to take a swim in the pool behind the mansion he'd been told of the pool party that Johnny had held a week after he'd bought the mansion. Apparently the action star had invited over the entire cast of his first movie to have some fun and had cleaned out the closest store of all its swimwear to make sure the guests could choose whatever they wanted to wear. It'd started out well enough but then something happened that made it clear Cage should've been more careful as well as specific with his purchases.

While it was true that the majority of the swimsuits were perfectly normal, a few of the ones the store had in stock were… erotic in nature.

Some of them looked perfectly normal when dry, no different from the millions being sold across the globe to middle class families, but when they got wet they started to… come apart. It took about thirty minutes of exposure to water for it to completely go to pieces so it'd depended on how much time each wearer spent in the pool itself as opposed to walking about poolside or inside the mansion. Nevertheless when the screams of embarrassment had started everyone had look towards the source to see a woman who'd been wearing a hot pink bikini struggling to cover her now naked body before running off, presumably to where she'd left her clothes. This had been funny for everyone else until others, regardless of gender, had started to experience the same problem. Now not everyone had experienced a sudden case of nudity since some had come with their own bathing suits and some had come preferring not to use the pool at all.

Nevertheless some of the victims had been both tightly wound and somewhat connected with the media as well certain areas of Hollywood. As a result Johnny had gotten a couple of angry phone calls, some subtle insults on live TV and even some inventive reconfiguration of one of the action star's action figures. Naturally it was anatomically impossible for a living human to do the same thing and live but it definitely got the message across that someone wasn't happy with being humiliated like that.

Later on he'd moved into the home entertainment room with every purchasable form of electronic entertainment along with their various accessories included. That meant arcade games, big screen TV, the latest videogame console, a rather extensive collection of movies as well as games and a music system that, according to Gerald, was so loud it could be heard from next door. Some of the movies and games hadn't even been released for public purchase but that Johnny had managed to get through some favors from the companies that produced them. He'd spent a good couple of hours enjoying all the home entertainment room had to offer but then had chosen to go get some supper.

That'd been thirty minutes ago and he was beginning to wonder where Johnny was because, even though he knew nothing about Hollywood meetings, he didn't think they should take this long.

SCREECH!

BANG!

WHAM!

"GERRY!" Johnny yelled from the direction of the front door. "GET TOM SET UP ON THE SHOOTING RANGE!"

 _Hoo boy! Someone is not in a good mood._

Gerald had shown him where the shooting range had been and even offered to set up some targets for him to practice on but he hadn't felt like it at the time so he'd passed. Now making his way towards the room in order to get the scoop on what had gone wrong with today's meeting, it didn't take him long to meet up with his host with the most. The casual suit the man had worn to the meeting was a bit of a mess with the tie undone and the top buttons of the dress shirt were undone. With the look on his face it was clear the actor needed to vent and that was the reason for the trip to the firing range to shoot off a few rounds.

"So… bad day?" he asked, not sure how else to put it.

"You could say that!" Johnny replied, sounding angry but not at him. "First even though I get there on time, they make me wait TWENTY MINUTES before calling me in. THEN they give me this song and dance about how my last picture had been good but they'd spotted a few worrisome problems that'd gotten overlooked. For over an hour they picked the movie apart, hell they must've spent hours finding them, all the while making it sound like they weren't a big problem.

"When we finally got to talking about the movie they wanted me to star in, it turns out it's some chick flick about glowing elves!" Johnny explained as they reached the firing range door. "Now I'm not against doing movies targeting the teenage girl demographic! Hell, I kinda like being what they think of when they try to imagine the perfect boyfriend. But the first ten pages of the script they showed me makes the lead character out to be some kind of emo goth guy! What kind of girl finds THAT attractive!?"

"You'd be surprised," he said as he followed Johnny to the cabinet that held the pistols even as Gerald put a picture of 'Tom' up on one of the movable targets. "I knew this one girl back home who was completely hooked on the whole 'vampire with a soul' genre of romance novels. You know, the ones where there are good vampires as well as bad ones, the ones where the teenage girl falls in love with them. That whole Romeo and Juliet stuff."

"Sounds like a complete ditz," Johnny said as he picked up a pistol and loaded it.

"Well, she had the right name for a ditz but she actually had a brain according to her SAT scores," he said, defending Buffy's intelligence. "Still she'll get better now since the writer that wrote her favorite series of that kind decided to try something else. Hopefully it won't be something so emo I'll want to puke."

"Hopefully," Johnny said as he chambered a round before taking aim at his target.

The movie star waited until Gerald had made it out of the shooting range before emptying the entire clip at the target, putting a rather large hole in the center of 'Tom's' picture. It proved to him that Johnny had experience using firearms beyond the props used in his movies but not enough to be considered a marksman.

"Nice shots," he said as the system rolled the target to within arms' reach.

"I've seen better but those people probably first held a gun when they were four and have been practicing ever since." Johnny pulled down the picture before setting up another one from the stack near the controls. "Want to try it out?"

"Sure," he said as he took the offered pistol before Cage sent the target to a respectable distance down range.

Feeling the soldier memories from Halloween stir, he chambered a round before taking careful aim at the picture of the man he didn't know. He always felt oddly comforted by the sense of familiarity those memories gave him, even if he couldn't always control which ones came to the surface. Deciding to try for a tight grouping of rounds he breathed in, cleared his mind, breathed out and fired.

When the slide locked he pressed the recall button on the target, waiting for it to arrive so he could see how well he did.

"Now you're just making me look bad, Xan," Johnny whistled with genuine admiration.

"Lucky shot," he said as he looked at the hole about the size of two small pill bottles in the center of the photo.

The truth was he was a little surprised himself at how well he'd managed to do but he certainly wasn't arguing with the results. Now if they could just come up with ammunition that'd be effective against supernatural and demonic life forms he'd have something real to offer Scoobies. Something he could use to build on what he'd pulled off during graduation. Unfortunately this wasn't like some demon hunter comic book where a secret government organization had been experimenting to create modern variations of proven demon slaying weapons for decades, if not centuries.

 _Maybe I should try experimenting with a few things when I get back to Sunnydale,_ he thought as he slid another mag into the pistol and hung up another picture. _I'll have to be careful but who knows what I might be able to come up with._

Then an idea that came to him that made him smirk and so he took aim, practiced the order of his targets and then opened fire hoping for the best.

BANG! BANG!

BANG!

BANG! BANG! BANG!

The target picture was still a fair bit away but as it drew closer to him he couldn't help but smile at what he'd managed. It'd been a bit ambitious to try it but it looked like he'd succeeded in making a nice little happy face with the six rounds from the pistol Johnny had given him. The spacing between them wasn't as precise as he would've liked them to be so clearly he needed more practice but, even if it was just luck this time, it was still pretty cool.

"You sure you've never done this before?" Johnny asked, looking at the shot picture, then to him and back again.

"My Uncle Rory showed me how to shoot a bit," he lied, figuring it was better that telling the truth and getting labeled a nutcase. "Just a few times before my parents found out and made me swear not to visit him again under pain of grounding."

"He must've been a good teacher then," Cage commented with a smile before taking another pistol out of the gun cage. "Let's see just how good."

He smiled himself at the challenge issued and the excitement that came from it.

 _ **Going Down the Streets of Hollywood**_

 _ **Johnny Cage's POV**_

 _Hard to believe a week's gone by,_ he thought as Gerald drove him to the studio in charge of the movie he'd decided to give a shot. _I only planned on letting him stay a day or three but it's been seven and I don't feel like making him leave at all._

It was certainly strange considering he hadn't let anyone linger within his mansion since he'd purchased it and those few people who had used one of the rooms only did so for two nights max before they were gone. Either because he tossed them out, never to come back, or they left on their own SUPPOSEDLY because he'd said or done something to offend them. Somehow, though, with Xander, there wasn't any of that. In fact he was beginning to think that if he'd had a little brother he would've been a lot like the young man who'd been living with him for the last week. It was strange and it didn't seem plausible but that was the closest thing that matched to how he was feeling at the moment, so there it was.

That was one of the reasons why he'd asked Xander to come along rather than spend another day lounging about the mansion with Gerald waiting on his every need. Not that he didn't enjoy that himself from time to time, particularly after a particularly difficult job, but for someone who'd left his home town to see the country he needed to get out more. To help his fellow Californian blend a bit he'd loaned out one of his casual suits that thankfully fit, more or less. If anyone asked who Xander was he'd just say that he was his new personal assistant and he was being shown the ropes before business picked up with the movie. The suits would be happy about it since it meant that it'd save them having to hire one for him and paying that person the usual wage for someone like that. Hell, if Xan asked him he'd hire him on for real since it'd be a step up from most jobs that high school graduates got and, if the teenager managed to do a good job, he might very well make it permanent.

"So what's the name of this movie again?" Xander asked as Gerald continued to drive them.

"My agent told me it's called 'Deadly Dawn'," he replied, turning to face the young man.

"Sounds like your typical action flick," Xander commented, sounding only mildly interested.

"Yeah, it kinda is," he conceded after thinking about the meeting where it'd been discussed. "It's your basic 'vampires about to declare war and a lone hero summoned by destiny appears' plot."

This caused an odd facial twitch in Xander but it disappeared almost as quickly as it happened, making him wonder what it was that'd caused it in the first place.

"A bit cliché but I guess that's Hollywood for you," Xander said, sounding a little disappointed with what he'd heard.

He had to admit that based on that summary alone it was a bit cliché but hopefully once he read the script he'd be given more reasons to be glad he agreed to act in it than reasons to be disappointed. It was a sad truth that, while there existed infinite variations, there were a finite number of stories that existed to be told. The variations could be born of culture, religion, mythology or the time period in which they'd been written but they all followed the same basic patterns.

 _Still, as long as they're stories to tell, someone's gonna pay money to hear'em._ He wasn't not worried that people would get tired of the same old stories being rehashed.

"You gonna be the star?" Xander asked with curiosity.

"Of course! You think I'd settle for second billing on anything I sign on for?" he asked rhetorically as he answered the teenager's question.

"Well, I thought you probably had to when you started out," Xander said thoughtfully, looking out the window. "I mean everyone's got to pay their dues before moving up in the world."

"Not me! I hit the big time in my first film and haven't come down since!" he bragged, proud of the fact that his greatness had been scouted from the get go.

"Everything comes down to Earth sooner or later, Johnny," Xander said, sounding like he was giving cautionary advice. "Even you."

"Only when I'm dead, Xander," he boasted, not planning on letting the good times end while there was a thing he could do about it.

"If you don't know when it's time to bow out gracefully it might come to that." Xander pointed out, sounding like he really believed that.

"Hey, I know when I've overstayed my welcome," he said, defending his ability to perceive the truth. "It's everyone else who won't let me go."

"Whatever," Xander said, conceding defeat.

It was a dozen minutes later that the car came to a stop at the gates to the studio so he rolled down his window.

"Name?" the big guard asked, clipboard in hand.

"What? Have you been living under a rock for the last decade?" he asked almost incredulous that the man didn't recognize him.

"Name?" the guard asked again, not changing his tone one little bit.

"Johnny Cage," he replied, seeing he couldn't count on the man's brain cells creating a spark big enough to come to the right conclusion on his own.

With annoyance he watched as the man checked his list before giving the signal to his buddy to open the gate. With a sigh of mild exasperation he laid back in his seat as Gerald drove them onto the studio property, already knowing which building to stop by. Still he let it slide off of him since he figured that by the law of averages there had to be at least ONE person in the entire country that didn't know who he was. Then again it was possible that the man was just very diligent about his job and refused to budge from protocol even if he knew the answer. If that was the case the man needed to relax more. You could do your job just fine without getting so tightly wound about it all.

"We'll be in there for at least an hour or so, Gerry," he said once they arrived. "Feel free to do whatever you want until we're done."

"I shall be waiting here for you, Master Cage," Gerald said as he removed a book from the glove compartment. "Reading a novel from my library should make the time pass quickly enough."

"Suit yourself," he said as he opened his door and got out. "See you in an hour!"

He didn't even need to ask Xander to follow him and together they walked up to the entrance, passing through it thankfully without running into another guard who'd ask for his name. He hadn't worked for this particular studio before but they'd produced some decent moves, he'd even watched a few, so he'd felt it was worth the risk of signing onto one of their productions. Strolling up to the elevator, he could see that the studio was as busy as one could expect considering that time was money for the people in charge. Some stopped to look at him, no doubt recognizing him, while others offered Xan a passing glance since officially he hadn't signed on any assistant or gofer, so everyone was curious. When they got into the elevator it wasn't too crowded but it had the same lousy music being piped through its speakers as every other elevator. He remembered being told someplace that the people in charge used all sorts of subtle things to try to increase productivity, ranging from painting the walls a certain color to piping certain types of music through a speaker system.

Personally he thought that if the people in charge wanted their workers to work harder they should introduce some more cash incentives.

When they reached the chosen floor he decided it'd probably be best to lay down some ground rules just to make sure things didn't get complicated.

"Okay, Xan, we're about to meet the big wigs, so listen up," he said as they strolled down the hallway. "Don't speak unless spoken to. As far as they're concerned you're a nobody or someone they can use to get me to do what they want. I'll probably say something to you and even if it doesn't make sense just go with it and we'll both ad lib a bit. Follow these rules and everything'll be cool."

"No problem. I've got zero desire to be noticed or used," Xander said, showing he knew the value of being overlooked. "As for doing an on the spot skit with you… don't blame me if I take us to new and weird places."

He couldn't help but chuckle at that since he'd become familiar with the young man's sense of humor so he had no doubt the 'new and weird places' would be amusing.

 _ **Movie Executive Meeting Room, Xander's POV**_

 _Man do I feel like I'm surrounded by piranha!_ he thought as he stood a couple of feet behind Johnny and his agent as the two of them discussed the details of the movie.

Copies of the script were in front of each attendee of meeting, even if they hadn't yet gotten to the part where they went over each scene to discuss if any changes needed to be made. He figured there probably wouldn't be many but a few here and there were inevitable if the people in charge wanted to keep a specific actor or actress. However from what he'd seen of Johnny so far, he expected things to end quite strained or for 'talks' to break off when someone stormed away from the meeting table.

Why? Because the Johnny Cage he was bearing witness to now was different from the one he'd been hanging out with for the last week. In its place was someone who personified the qualities one came to expect from filthy rich playboy actors who arrived at movie premieres with a supermodel on each arm. He was arrogant, obnoxious, materialistic and utterly conveying a sense of superstar entitlement that had his potential employers bemoaning the costs of making high priced movies. It was amusing to watch but he did his best to keep it from showing since it'd probably make things worse either by cluing in the suits to Johnny's act or pissing them off because he was laughing at them.

Overall it was rather informative to see what went on in Hollywood deals since most movies or TV shows just gave the broad strokes rather than the specific details. He'd had no idea what really went into putting together a movie aside from the credits at the end, so now he had a better idea what filled up the months that went into putting something onto the big screen. Time passed and it looked like things were about to wrap up for the day as they settled into finalizing the particulars of how much Johnny would be paid and what he'd get for the use of his image in merchandise. As he listened, though, he couldn't help but feel that there was something hidden in the words that wasn't readily perceivable to the casual listener.

Slowly advancing so he could do see the numbers better, he began to go through them in his head, using the skills he'd gained by managing to stay in the advanced math with Willow. With a drunken asshole for a sperm donor it'd been up to him make sure the bills got paid on time and for the groceries to be bought. So he'd gotten pretty good at taking what money he could get his hands on from Tony and Jessica then putting it to use, making sure he kept a roof over his head and food on the table. He also knew the best places to take Tony's empty booze bottles to get top dollar for them, ranking them from number one to the fifth best to get recycle money. Using what brainpower he had he began to figure the numbers in his head to see who got the most money, who got it the fastest and from where the money would come from.

He was almost too late in figuring out everything before the conversation ended and Johnny was expected to formally sign on the dotted line but he made it just as Cage picked up the pen to be used for the signing.

"I wouldn't sign that if I were you, Mister Cage," he said as professionally and politely as possible.

"Why's that, Xan?" Johnny asked, turning his head and looking inquiringly at him.

"Because I think they'd be yanking a full twenty-percent of the profits out from under you." He turned to the relevant section of the contract, "See? If you look here, here and here you can see that, while it's buried in legalese, it clearly shows these guys skimming quite a bit that I personally think you should have."

Johnny began reading the sections he'd pointed out and even his agent Max began to look over his client's shoulder to do the same. The latter then took a calculator out of his briefcase and began crunching numbers using a blank piece of paper to jot down what he could not remember on his own. It took about ten minutes for the two older men to come to the same conclusion that he had before opening his mouth to let them in on the secret. When they did he could see that they'd become decidedly frosty towards the men on the other side of the table.

"Actually, Xander, you're calculations were off by a bit," Max said, sounding decidedly unhappy with what he'd figured out. "It's closer to twenty-eight percent of the expected profits from the movie. Care to explain this, gentlemen?"

"I-I'm sure it's just… a clerical error," the man who'd been leading the opposition replied with some unease. "I'll take it back to our legal department and have it corrected."

"A clerical error? Really? That's the best you can come up with?" Johnny asked, making it clear he wasn't buying the excuse he'd been handed. "If you think you can slip one past Johnny Cage, you've got another thing coming. C'mon guys: we're leaving."

With that Johnny got out of his chair and made for the door with him and Max close behind.

"WAIT!" the lead man cried out, trying no doubt to turn things around. "We'll add on another ten percent to your pay!"

"Add another fifteen percent and I'll think about it." Johnny said, half turning back towards the man.

"But that's more-" the lead man said before one of his fellow's loudly pushed back his chair with a screech.

"Save it, Dave," the younger suited man said, disdain in his voice. "We won't beg this asshole to be in our movie. There are actors out there who'd be glad to get half what we were offering Cage. I know of at least three top billers who can do the role just as good as him. Let him walk."

"Those so-called top billers? They're just copycats who at best are half as cool as I am," Johnny said dismissively, not threatened by his colleagues in the acting business. "And if they're willing to settle for less it's because they know they don't have the chops to charge top dollar for their skills."

"They have the chops. They're just not as greedy as you are, Cage," the younger suit said, not backing down at all. "The only real difference between them and you is that they'll still be around after you've been reduced to begging just to get a cameo in a late night sitcom."

"No, the difference between them and me is that I'll have my name on the Walk of Fame while they'll be lucky to get nominated for an Oscar," Johnny said before resuming his stride for the door. "Mark my words assholes: you'll regret the day you tried to screw over Johnny Cage!"

With that Johnny, Max and he walked out of the room, slamming the door behind them while giving anyone who looked in their direction a glare that immediately made them look someplace else. By the end of the day everyone in the studio would know that Johnny Cage stormed out of a meeting with the higher ups in a bad mood. By the end of the week they'd have enough of the details about why the action star stormed off from his meeting. Then it'd be up to each individual person to decide whether or not Johnny was justified in walking away from the negotiation table. Personally he thought the actor was justified at turning down the job because if Johnny had taken it then it would've made other studio big shots think they could shortchange the actor.

No, you had to take a stand in these situations.

"I'm sorry, Johnny. I should've caught that sooner," Max said as they entered the elevator.

"No worries, Max," Johnny said, still sounding like he was still angry at how the younger suit had talked to him. "Xan caught it and before I committed myself to anything legally. Just don't take any more offers from THIS studio for at least two years. That'll give'em time to realize with whom they are fucking."

"Consider it done, Johnny," Max said, sounding like he'd rather have a root canal done without anesthetic. "Just one thing: who is this kid and where'd you find him?"

"His name's Xander. Gave me a ride a week ago when my car broke down on my way back from Santa Barbara," Johnny replied before he could explain who he was and how he'd met the superstar. "He's doing the whole high school grad road trip thing and I offered to put him up while he looks about L.A. It's been fun! Thought he'd like to see how deals are done in Hollywood and you know how that went."

"So he's not your new assistant?" Max asked, referring to the cover story given at the beginning of the meeting.

"Nope. Don't really know what one of those does and I'm pretty sure I haven't taken the necessary classes for it," he replied before Cage could do it for him.

"Trust me, kid. What you did in there was definitely the thing an assistant woulda done." Max said before turning to Johnny. "Hire him on. He should at least be able to keep you outta trouble."

"What do you mean by that?" Johnny asked defensively, surprised.

"Do you really want me to go through the entire list?" Max asked with a raised eyebrow. "Maybe start with how you reacted to a certain photographer? Or maybe that blonde down in Florida?"

"Hey that first one was asking for it. You want my opinion? I think he set me up. He wanted me to kick his ass so he'd have grounds for a lawsuit." Johnny explained, not sounding guilty at all. "As for the blonde she certainly wasn't acting her age. You woulda been fooled, too!"

"My point is with a second set of eyes close by maybe we can avoid any repeat," Max said before turning to him. "So whattaya say, kid? Interested?"

Honestly?

His whole trip had been about seeing as many things as possible so he could figure out what he wanted to do with his life. Most of it would definitely have to do with helping the gang keep the Hellmouth shut and dealing with every demon looking to bring about the end of the world. At the same time he needed a job so he could move out of the Harris house and support himself, 'cause otherwise he'd probably wind up sponging off of his friends and that could NOT be allowed. He refused to become a charity case like Tony.

"What's the pay?" he asked, figuring that if he was going to be blowing off his road trip he should at least know how much he'd be getting for it.

"Howsabout… fifty bucks an hour for twenty-four seven help as personal assistant, with the chance of it going up depending on how good a job you do. Sound good?" Johnny asked, sounding like he'd come up with the hourly wage out of thin air.

 _Fify dollars an hour!? T-that'd be…twelve hundred dollars in ONE day if he plans on paying me whether he's awake or asleep… eighty-four hundred a week… HOLY SHIT!_ His mind did up the math and made it clear that there was only one sane choice to make.

"Then you got yourself a personal assistant," he said as they reached the elevator. "Until I screw up or you find someone better."

With the money he'd be making off of this he could easily afford moving out AND going on a cross country trip next year.

All in all there were good times ahead, no two ways about it.

 _ **The Cage Porche, One Month Later**_

 _ **Johnny Cage's POV**_

"So what's on the schedule today?" he asked as the car pulled out into traffic.

He'd given Gerald the day off as driver so he was behind the wheel of one of his nicer set of wheels as they set out on their day.

"Well, first we've got the press conference for the TV series you're signed on for, then it's off to the South Coast Plaza for the release of your last movie on VHS. Basically a sign and smile deal," Xander replied while tapping away on the PalmPilot he'd gotten his personal assistant. "After that it's an afternoon meal with that cologne company about the one they're going to brew up and name after you. After that your schedule's pretty much clear for the evening so we can either hang out at the mansion or we can go clubbing for the night. Just make sure to keep the drinking down, 'cause you've got script reading late tomorrow morning."

"Clubbing sounds good," he said as he navigated traffic while sparing Xan a glance every so often. "We'll need some unwind time after today."

"Suits me," Xander said as he put away his PalmPilot into one of his suit's pockets.

It'd been a little over a month since Xander had officially been hired on as his personal assistant but the college age kid had proven to be a quick study and a good organizer. His days were never too full and there was always at least an hour or two to unwind in the evening before hitting the hay and getting some sleep. Sure, there were some busy days where it felt like he'd run a marathon but Xander never failed to keep everything straight and where the kid fell short Max stepped in to fill the gap. So far he had no reason to complain about his latest hiring and, unless something big happened, he felt this was the start of a solid friendship between the two of them.

In the last four weeks he'd learned more and more about his personal assistant, ranging from personal tastes to a few of the more amusing high school moments. Naturally he didn't badger the kid about every little thing every day but, if they passed someplace that caused a question to pop up in his mind, he never hesitated to ask it. A lot of what he'd found out was pretty cool but he could tell the kid hadn't had a lot of people tell him that in his life. He wasn't a stranger to that since his old man hadn't been free with the compliments but he'd always managed to get noticed in school either with sports or at parties. Sure, some people thought he was hot headed and dove into things without thinking them through but in his experience going with his gut worked out more often than not. Going with his gut had gotten him Kimmy Ryder as a girlfriend, had gotten him named Prom King and had gotten him through years of martial arts training when others had washed out.

 _At least I got a wingman now,_ he thought with a grin as he came to a stop at an intersection.

It was that point of view that had him mentally penciling in clubbing tonight since, in all the time since Xander had come into his life, they hadn't really gone out for any fun. They'd just hung out at the mansion, watched some movies and he'd even started showing the kid some moves he'd learned from his Karate and Jeet Kune Do sensei. Xander had some pretty impressive endurance and resiliency for someone his age and could take a solid hit. The only problem was that he probably hadn't had a day of actual training in how to fight and probably just mimicked whatever he saw on TV or one of his movies. That might work against other amateurs or barroom brawlers but, against someone with even a couple of months of training to their name, it'd get your ass handed to you. So he'd done his best to help the kid out by taking him through the same lessons his mentors had walked him through when he'd first walked into their dojos, then he upped the difficulty when it looked like Xander wasn't breathing hard enough to be really getting anything out of it, but all in all the lessons tended to end with him satisfied. If some guy tried to pick a fight with him tonight because his girl knew when to trade up then at least he'd have some back up if the guy had friends.

Turning into the conference center where the press conference would take place in about half an hour, he proceeded to the usual place where he parked whenever meeting the press here. There was already a nice collection of cars parked around the entrance but no press with cameras or microphones were waiting for them.

 _Thank God for small favors!_ he thought since he didn't want to have to deal with the vultures until he was safely behind a table with center security between the two of them.

Getting out with Xan, they walked inside and saw most of the cast of the yet to premiere show milling about along with the producers, writers and the others that'd be answering questions today. The others gave polite nods or smiles but otherwise just stuck to their groups of three or four, waiting for the press conference to begin. Looking about he found a spot near a window that looked promising enough so, looking at Xander, he jerked his head in the window's direction before heading that way himself. Sitting down in the closest free chair he lounged casually in it while thoughts of what was going to happen began bouncing around his head. The usual snippets about the show had been released to the media a week ago but they didn't give all the details so there'd probably be questions from people digging for more. This wasn't his first rodeo so he knew the drill: keep things short, work the crowd but don't give up anything new that hadn't been approved by the studio.

For him that meant he could toss a couple of red herrings out there that'd make people tune in to watch even if they were complete bullshit.

After all, if they wound up tuning in they'd get hooked on the truth quick enough so it didn't really matter if he lied.

When he started to see the first of the reporters show up on the other side of the glass doors he got up from his chair and headed for the chair behind the briefing table that had his name taped to it. Xander would stand behind the platform he'd be on and hopefully wouldn't get spotted by the press, or at least not be treated like anyone worth bothering with. He'd already told Xander that if the press wound up approaching him to not say anything and to just get away from them as quickly as he could. When the young man asked what he should do if they provoked him he'd said to keep the cooler head and wait for an opening to make a run for it. It was a rule of Hollywood that if they couldn't get what they wanted from you the paparazzi provoked you to make you do something stupid so they didn't go home empty handed.

He hadn't always remembered this rule and he'd paid for it in the papers the next day.

Sitting down in his chair the security guards waited five minutes before letting the press inside and, like ants scuttling along, they surrounded the two five by five rows of seats while those of them with video cameras set up around the perimeter. It took about three minutes for them to settle down and with that Robert, the top ranked member of their little group, moved to the collection of microphones some of which had been there from the beginning while others had been added by the press.

"Welcome ladies and gentlemen to the official press conference for the show 'Knight Dawn', which will be premiering this coming fall," Robert said with his WONDERFUL speaking voice. "By now you've all received the information released by the studio and so I've got only a few more things to add before we'll start taking questions."

From there Robert revealed a few additional details about the show, like who'd be in charge of the special effects, some guy who'd won an award for the last show he was a part of, and a little more expansion of the plot. Some of it he knew and some of it was news to him but not necessarily grounds for him to have a few harsh words with Robert later about not keeping him properly informed. All in all the press looked quite happy with what they'd been told.

One reporter on the left though looked like he was about to do something quite… inflammatory.

 _Ah hell! Who let Davy into this press conference?!_ He could feel a migraine coming on.

Davy was a reporter for one of the papers that rested on the border between reputable newspaper and tabloid trash. As a result it was never a good idea to get their attention and, even worse, to get the attention of Davy, who had made a career of taking every person the mainstream media praised and making them out to be Jack the Ripper's direct descendant carrying on the family hobby. Davy'd started coming after him soon after he'd won his first golden statue and hadn't let up since. His career had managed to take the hits thanks to some skillful spin control on the part of Max but it was never pleasant coping for the three months it took for the spin control to undo the damage. People repeated whatever Davy wrote in his article, came up with comments of their own and generally tested his self-restraint repeatedly. Eventually he'd just decide to stay inside as much as possible and only leave his mansion to go to work and so far that policy worked for him.

 _Here's hoping that Davy hasn't learned how to up his game._

"Yes? Mister David Windsor from the L.A Confider?" Robert asked, sounding like his politeness was being tested.

"I have a question for Mister Cage," Davy said, looking him right in the eye. "Is there any truth to the rumor that you stormed out of a meeting a month ago for the movie 'Deadly Dawn' because the people in charge wouldn't fork over an additional five million dollars you insisted on? Five million in addition to the twenty-five million you would've gotten anyways?"

 _I'm gonna KILL that snot nosed suit!_ he thought as he immediately concluded that it had to have been the young executive that'd badmouthed him at the 'Deadly Dawn' meeting who'd leaked and exaggerated the info.

No doubt the little shit was having a good little chuckle right now from wherever he was watching the press conference.

 _Don't underestimate me, asshole!_ "I stormed out of the meeting because they tried to use legalese to get a better share of the profits behind my back, not because I wanted more money. If they'd just came right out and explained everything from the beginning things woulda been different."

"Please! Your behavior on set is common knowledge, Cage!" Davy said, not put off by his response. "Late to scene shooting, endlessly complaining about the 'substandard help' and hitting on anything with a decent enough rack. You really expect us to believe that you walked out of that meeting on principle?"

This naturally caused some muttering to go on amongst the other reporters as they started to talk to each other actually considering the man's words.

"This press conference is not about Johnny Cage even though he's agreed to star in 'Knight Dawn'. Please keep your questions to the topic." Robert said, trying to steer things back on course.

Too bad the man failed to realize that when the press had a juicy piece of meat in front of them and someone tried to take it away it just made them latch on all the more.

"Hey! It's a valid question!" a lady reporter yelled, clearly interested in hearing more.

"Yeah! Why does he need extra money anyway!?" another reporter asked, sounding a little angry. "I get by on fifty grand a year!"

One after another the reporters began to sling accusations of greed and arrogance at him, making him out to be a completely spoiled brat of an actor. Still, he managed to hold onto his anger and keep it from making him say or do something he'd regret later. A reaction is what they wanted so it'd be the one thing he wouldn't give them.

Too bad Max didn't have the same restraint.

"Shaddup! None of you can do what Johnny does for a living!" Max yelled, his face turning an interesting shade of red. "THAT'S why he gets paid the big bucks! Why he DESERVES THEM! Until you can do the same keep yer questions to yerself!"

"'Does for a living'!? So he walks around, says his lines and then you guys stop the cameras so that the stunt man can do the real heavy lifting!" Davy said with a twinkle of triumph in his eyes. "I bet the special effects guys don't get paid half as much as they should for making this jerk look good! Why don't you cut his pay and give to the people that really deserve it!?"

"Are you calling me a fake, Davy boy?" he asked, feeling cracks beginning to form in his restraint.

"No… I'm calling you a fake AND an embarrassment to the entertainment industry!" Davy replied with fire in his tone.

"Alright, this press conference is over!" Robert said, clearly not liking having the event shanghaied or not being the center of attention. "You have your facts! Stick to them!"

With that the man strode away from the microphones, with the rest of the people involved with the show doing likewise, though probably more out of self-preservation than disagreement with anything Davy had said about him.

Seeing no point in sticking around he got out of his chair and made for the quickest route to his car, not even bothering to look and see if Xander was following him. He had to get out of there before Davy tossed even more fuel on the fire and wound up burning through the chains holding down what his imagination wanted him to do to the bastard.

He was NOT going to give this guy the headline and the grounds for a lawsuit he wanted.

"Yeah you keep walking, Cage!" Davy yelled sounding oh so smug. "Keep walking and don't stop until you find someplace no one knows who you are!"

Considering there was no place in America that hadn't had one of his movies play in their theatres or a TV show broadcast on their television sets, it was obvious the man wanted him out of the country.

Not going to happen.

Not NOW!

Not EVER!

 _ **Personal Gym, Cage Mansion**_

 _ **Xander's POV**_

"You really shouldn't let that guy piss you off so much!" he said as he fired off a kick-kick-punch combo on Johnny as they sparred in the mansion's gym. "Guys like that will go away if you ignore'em long enough!"

"Nah!" Johnny said, blocking the first two kicks before leaning to the side to evade the punch. "That just eggs'em on even more! Makes them do crazier stuff to get a reaction out of you! Better to give'em a little and keep their game little league!"

With that the movie star began an eight move barrage of kicks, punches and knee thrusts that he almost managed to handle but still got nailed in the stomach, almost causing him to drop his arms to instinctively grab the struck area. Fortunately Johnny had managed to train that reflex out of him and instead he lunged forward with right hook turned into a reverse elbow strike that forced the action star to back off a bit. This gave him the time to get his wind back, leaving him less restricted in what he could do since his body wasn't giving him problems anymore. Going on the offensive again he decided to switch things up with a kick-palm thrust-heel kick-thrust kick combo that actually managed to break Cage's defenses, leaving him vulnerable. Going for a spear like one of his favorite professional wrestlers, he intended to tackle his opponent to the ground before wailing on him with a series of punches then ask for his surrender.

It'd be the first real victory he'd had over the man since he'd begun official martial arts training with Johnny.

He should've known better.

With a move worthy of an 'OLE!' Cage sidestepped his spear move and, just as he was moving by, somehow managed to grab ahold of him and throw him back the way he'd come. He landed with a bounce and a skid before coming to a stop, feeling more than a little embarrassed at having taken what had obviously been bait for a trap.

"Piece of advice, Xander: when something looks too good to be true, it probably is." Johnny said, taking along a more relaxed demeanor before walking over to offer him a hand up. "Be certain you've knocked some screws loose before you try anything you won't be able to pull back from in time."

"Good advice," came a voice that seized Johnny's attention instantly. "I remember when I gave it to a certain cocky student of mine who thought he could take me after only a year of training."

Turning his head he saw a grey haired man who looked to be in his mid-to-late fifties with a groomed beard leaning against the doorframe of the gym. Dressed in your typical civilian clothes, he couldn't quite picture who the guy was or where he would've met Johnny but, considering what he'd said, he must've been Cage's teacher in either Karate or Jeet Kune Do.

"Master Boyd," Johnny said, walking up to his old mentor before holding out his hand for a shake. "What brings you knocking on my door? Things getting boring back at the dojo?"

"Nah, things are fine there," Boyd replied with a shake of his head. "I was in the neighborhood scoping out new talent when I caught your press conference. Taking some pretty nasty heat, Johnny."

"It's just Davy spewing crap like always," Johnny said, dismissing the problem but unable to keep some anger out of his words.

"Crap that's causing you to bubble up inside like when Jake used to trash talk you." Master Boyd said, clearly not buying what his former student was selling. "Most times that ended with one of you taking the first swing eventually. You planning on punching this Davy guy?"

"Me? Punch him!? Get real!" Johnny said, making it sound like the idea was ridiculous. "It'd be a waste of energy and I've got better things to do."

"Yeah… I thought as much. Definitely going to punch him next time he opens his big mouth," Boyd said, seeing through to his former student's true intentions. "Fortunately for you I've brought a solution that'll silence all the doubters and make that reporter eat humble pie for LIFE."

With that the old man took a seriously old looking scroll out from his pocket before holding it out for Johnny to take. This immediately had him wary because, in his experience, scrolls meant either prophecy or something old coming back to bite the present in the ass. Neither possibility filled him with the warm fuzzies.

"It's an invite to a tournament. THE tournament, according to what I've heard," Boyd said after Cage took the scroll and began to unroll it. "It happens once every fifty years. Only the best of the best get an invite, from just about every style of hand-to-hand combat, and then they're all brought together to fight. Most of the weak ones get weeded out in the elimination round early on until there's only a handful left. You make it all the way to the top and defeat the reigning champ and everyone who saw you claim the grand prize will go home saying Johnny Cage is the real deal. No one'll be able to call you a fake or a disgrace ever again."

He had to admit that if this tournament was all the hype was making it out to be that it'd give Johnny serious bragging rights to the world. The only thing that had him worried was the fact that he'd never heard of such a big time tournament and one would think that something that sent out invites to every single major player in the fighting world would've warranted some kind of media coverage.

"What's the tournament called? Does it even have a name?" he asked, wanting to get more info out of concern for his friend.

"It's called Mortal Kombat. Like the name implies you put your life on the line in this tournament," Master Boyd replied, looking at him for the first time.

"Death matches? Is it mandatory or can you choose not to kill your opponent?" he asked, wanting to know just how dark this tournament really was.

"Whether or not you off your opponent at the end is up to you," Boyd replied, not giving away his position on the matter with his facial expressions. "Just keep in mind, Johnny, that not everyone who's gonna be competing is going to have a code of honor. Some of them are going to be the scum of the Earth who'll use every trick in the book to win and will get off making you die in bloody ways."

"Sounds less like a martial arts tournament and more like one of those underground gladiatorial fights you hear about," he said, not liking the picture developing in his mind. "This thing really respected that much?"

"Unlike the tournaments you've probably seen on TV, Mortal Kombat brings fighting back to its roots," Boyd said, sounding like he approved of this stance. "Two men enter, one man leaves. There are rules for the tournament, though. The fights are two out of three falls. No fighting allowed until the tournament officially begins. If someone challenges you there's no backing out without being disqualified from the tournament. Rule breakers will be punished… severely."

"That's it?" he asked, thinking there were too few rules to keep things clean.

"That's it," Master Boyd replied with a nod of his head. "I know you need time to think things through, Johnny. The boat taking the competitors to the island where the tournament is going to be held leaves from Tokyo harbor in a week, at seven in the evening, pier thirty-three."

"I'll think it over," Johnny said, though anyone who'd spent time with him could tell where the action star's intentions were leaning. "You going to be staying in L.A long? Maybe we could hang out like old times."

"Much as I'd like to I'm on a tight schedule," Master Boyd replied with a shake of his head. "Got five more people to visit before heading back to the dojo. Just thought I'd drop off this invite and point you in the right direction."

"Sorry to hear that," Johnny said, sounding genuinely disappointed. "Still, it was nice to see you, Master Boyd. Safe journey."

Both martial artists bowed in respect to one another before the sensei left the room, presumably heading for the front door.

Seeing Johnny looking with focus at the unrolled scroll in his hands, he knew that by tonight the man'd make his decision to participate in the tournament, seeing it as the best way to earn the respect he deserved. Still, he wouldn't be a very good personal assistant if he didn't do at least some kind of background check on the deadly competition beforehand.

"Let me do some background checking before you commit to anything, Johnny. It sounds good but I got a bad feeling about it."

For a minute it looked like the action star was going to brush off his words but something made him pause before nodding in acceptance.

"You got six days. After that we're catching a flight to Tokyo to catch a boat." Johnny said before walking over to the bench to grab his towel and water bottle.

 _Not a lot of time,_ he thought as he did the same before heading to where his things rested and took out the cell phone Johnny had given him. _Hope Giles is up to the challenge._


	3. Some legends ARE true

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the copyrighted materials contained herein. They are the rightful property of their respective creators and/or associated companies. I make no profit from this whatsoever and I have no intention of changing this in the future. I write because it's fun and because some people enjoy reading my stories.

 _ **Rupert Giles' Apartment**_

 _ **Giles' POV**_

RING!

RING!

"Giles residence, Rupert Giles speaking," he said after picking up the phone.

"Hey G-man! How's Sunnydale been doing since I left?" a voice he recognized asked, sounding quite happy.

"Quite well, Xander," he replied. "While there has been something of a power vacuum left by the Mayor's death, most potential successors seem content to use the 'Summer lull' to gather information rather than act to immediately fill the void."

Indeed it had been a stroke of good luck on their part since in other places, when a ruler died, succession was almost always determined through conflict, with it sometimes occurring within hours of the previous sovereign's death. There were, after all, resources to be seized, rivals to be eliminated before they could defend themselves and strategic positions to be secured. In the case of Sunnydale he could only surmise that Wilkins had had the foresight to eliminate those with the potential to unseat him, leaving only capable lieutenants to command. Spread out the 'eliminations' over the course of a hundred years and maintaining an accurate chart of the powerful could not be easy with it changing when you least expect it. Thus it was only natural that they would spend some time gaining an accurate measure of their rivals before making any plans to taking serious action.

"Good to hear," Xander said, sounding like he'd been concerned but was now reassured. "Look, I've got something I'd like you to look into for me. It's something you'll like since it'll probably be in scrolls and old books."

A somewhat odd request but then again the lad did have a tendency to find trouble whether he was purposefully looking for it or not.

"Very well. You do realize, of course, that depending on the nature of your inquiry it could take quite a bit of time to learn anything," he said, accepting the request for assistance. "What do you wish to know?"

"My current employer just got an invite to a tournament. No specific style. More like an anything goes sort of competition with the only limit being what you can carry around," Xander replied with a tone of recollection. "Happens once every fifty years. Only the best of the best get invites. Invites come in scroll form with the emblem on it being the head of an Oriental dragon in a circle. According to the guy that handed my boss the invite it's called 'Mortal Kombat'."

"A rather ominous name for a combat tournament," he said as he wrote down the information he was being given onto a notepad. "I trust you attempted to dissuade your employer from accepting the invitation?"

"Yeah, but the guy's had a lot of people callin' him a fake who fights people that're paid to lose to him," Xander replied with a bit of exasperation. "He figures this tournament will be his chance to prove that he really is as good as he says he is. Unless you can give me some solid info that'll have an impact on him, he'll be on a plane to Tokyo in six days."

"That isn't a lot of time," he commented as he began to make a list of his more efficient and expedient sources of information.

"I know, but it's the deadline my boss gave me for convincing him to send a letter of regret to the people behind the tournament," Xander said, sounding like he trusted that he'd get what he needed in the end.

"I will see what I can do," he said, hoping that he would have something of substance within six days. "Is there anything else?"

"Start shopping for housewarming gifts," Xander replied in a tone that implied that there was a smile on his face. " See ya!"

Before he could ask the young man what he meant by 'housewarming gifts' Xander hung up on him, leaving him with nothing but a dialtone. Frowning somewhat at the lad's lack of politeness, he put down the phone and began to sort through what research materials he had in his flat, deciding it was as good a place to begin as anywhere.

Given the inclusion of an Oriental dragon with the invitation and the scroll medium, he would focus his efforts on parts of the world where such mythical creatures were integrated into the history and culture of the region. If that failed to bear fruit then he would shift his focus to nonhuman cultures that dealt in dragon-like entities and were known to be proficient in hand-to-hand or melee combat. After all, firearms and explosives had only become the dominant weapons of combat in the last century or two. If this tournament occurred every fifty years or so and had what he suspected was a long history, then melee weaponry and martial arts would be much more entrenched in their traditions.

He hoped that he would not need to call in any favors from friends still employed with the Watcher's Council. While he considered Xander a dear friend, he had to reserve such favors for end of the world situations that would aid Buffy in preventing Armageddon.

He thought of Xander.

He thought of the young man's tendency for trouble.

He thought of a centuries-old martial arts tournament that implied lethal force was permitted.

 _Perhaps one favor would not be uncalled for,_ he thought as he suppressed a shudder that was triggered when his imagination produced images of the chaos the lad could potentially get into.

 _ **An Expensive Sports Car That Costs a Ridiculous Amount of Money**_

 _ **Xander's POV**_

"I really wish you'd given me more time to dig up info on this tournament," he said as they drove through downtown Tokyo towards the docks where the ship would be in an hour to take them to an island belonging to one Shang Tsung.

"Look, I get it, you're spooked," Johnny said with only mild wariness in his voice, "but I'm telling ya everything you've found out is all hype. Sure, it's been around for two thousand years but anything that lasts that long has more stories about it than leaves on a tree and they grow every time they're told. So all this talk about other dimensions and the fate of the Earth you're so worried about? Nothing but a figment of someone's imagination."

"And if it's not hype but the real deal?" he asked, wondering what Johnny would say to the other side of the coin.

"Then I'm sure someone in the military knows about it and'll be sending people to handle things." Johnny replied in an 'it is not my problem' tone of voice.

One of the few things he didn't like about Johnny was that, when it came to caring about what happened outside of the world called showbiz, there was little or nothing. To him, so long as it didn't get in the way of his life and the things he wanted to do, it was someone else's problem. Realistically he couldn't blame the man since, even when the Scoobies fought to save the world, they never really considered the scale of it all or the sheer number of lives on the line. All they saw and all they knew were the things they saw every day, the people on the sidewalks or in the classrooms, and to them THAT was their world. If they really took the time to figure out exactly what was on the line, every detail, and fully comprehended it all, he doubted that they'd been able to get past the sheer weight of it. They were just high school students, teenagers, not military operatives with years of training and experience to help them cope with the decisions they made.

So while a part of him would like to feel angry with Cage for not showing more concern for the world and the people living on it, a larger part of him understood.

Still, he couldn't help but wonder what Johnny was driving them into.

He'd heard back from Giles about an hour before they'd departed for the airport, where a private jet was waiting for them, and what he'd been told wasn't encouraging. According to Giles the tournament had been founded two thousand years ago by a group of Shaolin Monks who claimed they'd been told to do so by a group referred to as 'The Elder Gods'. Apparently it was meant to give the Earth a fighting chance against invaders from another dimension. Any group wanting to invade were required to win the tournament ten times in a row before they would be permitted to invade. The last bit that Giles was checking up on was that not all of the participants in past tournaments had been human. Some were giants with four arms while others were demons with swords embedded into their forearms, and some were sorcerer warriors capable of great magic.

It was with that last bit that Giles told him that the man currently in charge of the tournament was a man named Shang Tsung. Tsung was believed to be the direct descendant of a man by the same name that had seized control five hundred years ago from the Shaolin Monks. Rumors told of the man's bloodline said they could perform magic capable of ripping a person's soul from their body and gaining strength from it. This was apparently very black magic that fortunately was not widely known and even harder to master, since screwing up often had dire consequences for the practitioner.

 _Gods, invaders, other dimensions, giants, demons and sorcerers oh my!_ he thought with an exasperated mental shake of his head. _I've really stepped into it this time._

He knew he could probably just walk away and leave Johnny to fend for himself but he'd come to like the actor and see him as a friend. Sending a friend into a dangerous situation that said friend refused to acknowledge, much less take seriously… not cool. At least by going with the idiot there was a chance he could keep Johnny from getting into more trouble than he could get out of on his own. If Cage lost a fight and his opponent decided to kill him, he'd hit whoever it was on the back of the head, hopefully knocking them out cold, and then he'd grab Johnny and run. He didn't know how far he'd get but hopefully there'd at least be a rowboat they could steal so they could get far enough from the island to be picked up by someone travelling along established ship routes. Hopefully the island was close enough to Japan that it wouldn't take too long for someone to come across them, take them aboard and get them to the mainland…

…okay so he was asking for a helluva lot. So sue him!

If the caliber of fighters at the tournament were the sort that could beat Johnny in a match, then they'd make short work of him because three years of demon hunting and a few weeks of official instruction did not a master warrior make. Any of the people who'd been invited to compete would tear him to pieces if he tried to fight them, so running if Johnny got defeated was the only rational course of action. Now maybe whoever beat Johnny would let it go at that but if some of them were scum of the Earth and even psychos, then there was a chance they'd be peeved at being robbed of their kill. They'd pursue and, unless he was very, VERY, lucky, the two of them would probably get caught before ever reaching the island docks.

He was walking into uncharted waters but then how was that any different from any other night on the Hellmouth.

As they turned a corner onto the dock where the ship meant to take them to the island was he could see a collection of people already waiting. There looked to be about thirty of them that he could see, with some being women while others were men and all of them would fit right in at a fighting competition. He spotted a blonde woman who looked to be in her early to mid-twenties wearing gear that the soldier in him told him had not been purchased at an army surplus store. Then again he was pretty sure that the woman would get verbally beaten down by her C.O. if she showed up for duty wearing her current outfit. Fingerless gloves were fine. The green cargo vest that was either a few sizes too small for her or she was purposefully wearing it to show off her abs and cleavage? Nope.

Not that he was entirely complaining, considering she did have a nice rack, but his soldier memories made it clear that standing out was not encouraged in the military. Everyone wore the same uniform, had pretty much the same haircut and would be verbally reamed if they did anything that reflected badly on the country's military as a whole.

Her pants were definitely tight but he could tell that they were made of a material that would stretch with her movements, so she wouldn't have to worry about splitting them the first time she did a high kick or something. Knee pads and black boots that went up that high finished off the outfit but those were sensible since they'd help protect her against any blows to the knees or feet.

"You've got good eyes, my young friend," Johnny said with appreciation and a smile on his face. "She is definitely a grade A hottie."

"A grade A hottie that wouldn't be here if she didn't have the skills to kick your ass the second you try and get fresh with her, Johnny," he said with a tone of warning. "Now personally if you want to get your ass kicked, that's up to you, but it'll make for a pretty embarrassing story if you got too banged up to compete BEFORE your first match because you got fresh with a woman."

"Please! Sure, she probably has SOME skills if she managed to get an invite to the tournament, but I'M the one who's gonna walk away with the belt!" Johnny declared as he pulled into a parking spot. "This tournament does have a belt for the champ, right?"

"Actually I think it's more of a medal," he replied with a sigh as he got out of the car and went to the trunk to get the luggage. "At least that's what Giles said it'd probably be."

"Hmmm… not as impressive as a belt but I'll take it," Johnny said, sounding like he was willing to lower his standards just this once.

Shaking his head he managed to get the two suitcases and the camera bag out, patting himself on the shoulder for managing to convince Johnny not to bring what Gerald said was the action star's usual amount of luggage. According to the butler it was easily three suitcases, a few clothing bags and some boxes. Personal assistant or not there was no WAY he was willing to lug all that around no matter how much he was being paid. Plus, if the ex-Watcher was right, the island was designed old Japanese style and that meant little if any electricity, no elevators and probably modest rooms for each contestant. It just wouldn't have been practical to drag around tons of stuff, especially if there wasn't much in the way outlets for the electronic stuff.

When he heard the sound of a motorcycle's engine approaching, signaling the arrival of the final member of their travelling trio, he knew the professional cameraman was here. While he'd volunteered to take a few shots or record Johnny's fight, the TV star had said he wanted a pro to do it in order to maximize the quality. That way when he showed them on live TV to the world there'd be no doubt that he was the real deal and not some Hollywood special effects-dependent hack. He'd even gone so far as to ask the person he'd hired to use both a camera and film that would make doctoring it more difficult AND requested that Max keep the press prepped to mobilize for their return. Within an hour of their setting foot back on Japanese shores the footage would be turned over to the press, making it VERY difficult to claim it was fake. Johnny wasn't taking any chances with the press and wanted to make it as hard as possible for them to say the movie star had just hired some people to help him produce this 'fake proof'.

The cameraman that'd been chosen had been contacted through Max and, while as Cage's personal assistant he'd worked out the details, it'd been via email rather than in person or over the phone. Apparently the cameraman's assignments took him into the field often and that'd been why he'd been chosen for this, since it'd become clear that the modern amenities would be lacking on this trip. The man had been given the location and the time they'd be disembarking from Japan and, as he turned around, he was pleased to see that the guy was punctual. It was only when the motorcycle was halfway decelerated that a number of oddities had him scratching his head in puzzlement. For one thing there was a mane of brown hair fluttering on the driver's back and for another the biker leathers worn exposed curves that had no place on a man's body.

On a woman's, though… definitely.

Watching as the woman got off the motorcycle, he suspected that she was quite limber but shoved that aside as she began to approach both him as well as Johnny with her gear.

"Jessie! Long time no see!" Johnny said in a way that spoke both of fondness and familiarity. "How ya been?"

"Good until your agent called me up, asking to go on your little rep building trip. You better give that man a raise because he was able to convince me to take the gig even with your ego getting in the way," 'Jessie' said as she took off her helmet. "Who's this? Your go-fer?"

"Personal ASSISTANT." Johnny replied with emphasis as though the different title was more respectable. "His name's Xander and he's been a big help organizing things for me. Max likes him, too."

"Only 'cause the kid does half his work for him, giving him some breathing room," Jessie said as she reached a spot a foot or two before the two of them. "So how's this ego maniac treating you, Xander?"

"Not bad. Believe it or not he's not a bad guy once you get past his Hollywood attitude," he replied with an amused smile.

"Yyyeeeeaahh, I GUESS he's not all bad," Jessie said, adjusting one of the straps of her gear. "Just have to have skin thick enough to ride out the rough patches. See anyone you recognize, Johnny?"

"Nope, but then again I haven't been competing in years so odds are most of the people I know've moved on," Johnny replied, glancing at the gathered group of people.

As his eyes passed over the crowd of contestants once more, his eyes caught on a pair that were definitely not dressed normally. One was an Asian man dressed in red and black clothes that looked like he'd come from some sort of kung fu film. The other one wasn't much better off, dressed predominantly in white with an Asian style blue vest, gold accessories and what he thought was called a Japanese rice hat on his head. It was definitely in keeping with the theme of the tournament and matched his friend's outfit nicely but… there was something about the older gentleman that had him thinking he was one of a kind even in this crowd.

 _Definitely be keeping an eye on those two._ He looked away to continue evaluating the other potential opponents Johnny might have to fight.

He doubted that all of the world's contestants were going to hop on a boat from this one location. Odds were good that there were docks all up and down the Japanese coast with people gathered on them and this one had just been the one Johnny had been assigned to. He wondered just how many people had been invited and how long it'd take to weed out the weak, leaving only the top strong people to compete in the main tournament. A battle royal, perhaps? Last twenty-four people standing make it in? Maybe.

Well whatever it turned out to be like he'd watch from the sidelines and catch every one of Johnny's matches.

"Ummmm… Johnny, I think you might want to rethink fighting in this tournament," Jessie said as something caught her eye. "'Cause if the transportation is anything to go by, they're either dirt poor or complete cheapskates."

Curious about what she could mean, he turned to look in the same direction as her only to see a boat coasting towards the dock. In terms of size it looked to be easily big enough to carry all the gathered fighters plus the crew, but in terms of appearance looked to be a Junk ship. Contrary to what some might think, the term Junk didn't mean it was literally fit for the local landfill but rather the term used by the Chinese. Junk ships were sailing ships that were developed during the Song Dynasty and were widely used throughout Asia in modern times. How did he know this? Because one time when Willow had chosen to watch a Kung Fu movie with him and Jesse, she'd spent the next week researching what she'd seen, including the types of boats used by the main characters. Mostly this was to prove that it was impossible for a ship of that design to cross the distance it did in the movie in the time that the dialogue suggested it had.

Jesse and him had just nodded their heads at the right moments while tuning her out entirely.

This boat, though, almost fit the title of junk entirely since it looked like whoever had been placed in charge of maintaining it had seriously been slacking off. The boat looked like it was only barely sea worthy and was only just sanitary enough for people to travel on without worrying about catching some kind of sickness. The front of the ship was the carved shape of a dragon that was almost certainly inspired by the symbol that'd been drawn on the bottom of Johnny's invitation. He imagined that in its prime it'd been pretty impressive but, with the disrepair that he could see, there was no way that the ship hadn't been left to rot until probably the last year or so.

"Um, Johnny, you still determined to compete in this tournament?" he asked, hoping that after seeing the state the transportation was in the movie star would reconsider.

"I'll admit that the thing could definitely do with some T.L.C. but if it made it all the way here, it should be safe enough." Johnny admittedly sounded a little worried but not discouraged enough to abandon the tournament.

 _If this wasn't enough to make him come to his senses, nothing will,_ he thought with a sigh. "Fine. Just hope that wherever this Junk heap plans on taking us it's not far."

If he wound up having to SWIM back to shore he was definitely going to ask Johnny for hazard pay.

 _ **Aboard the Mortal Kombat Tournament Ship**_

 _ **Raiden's POV**_

"What is the matter, Lord Raiden?" Liu Kang asked with concern in his tone.

"I sense a power…" he replied as they waited cautiously in their cabin for the ship to reach its destination. "One both familiar and not."

"Could it be coming from one of the other tournament participants?" Liu asked, showing some concern over the matter.

"Possibly. Whoever it belongs to is either doing a commendable job of suppressing it or does not know they possess it because it has been sealed away," he replied after a moment's consideration. "In any case, if the source is a tournament participant I suspect we will not have to wait long to learn their identity as well as the nature of the power they possess."

A nod of agreement was all he received from the member of the White Lotus and really all that was needed on the matter for the time being.

Especially when they had known threats to discuss strategy about.

"Returning to our previous topic of conversation, the second faction you should be concerned with is the Lin Kuei clan of assassins," he said as he looked at his student. "They are an ancient clan that has existed for centuries, accepting tasks from both commoner and noble alike. Led by the grandmaster of their clan they have mastered both armed and unarmed combat, with an exceptional few gaining additional attributes in order to become deadlier still."

"How many will be participating in the tournament?" Liu Kang asked with the seriousness the topic deserved.

"That I am aware of? Three," he replied, recalling what he had learned in the weeks leading up to their departure from the Wushi Academy. "Sub-Zero, Cyrax and Sektor. These are not their real names, obviously, but rather aliases bestowed upon them by the grandmaster as symbols of their superior rank within the Lin Kuei. I suspect that all three have been hired by Shang Tsung to eliminate warriors that fight in defense of Earthrealm.

"Sub-Zero possesses formidable control over ice and is capable of freezing those he fights either to immobilize them as a set up to further blows or kill them. He can do so either by converting his chi into ice or by harnessing the moisture present in his environment," he explained as he laid out what he knew of the warrior. "He is as cold and remorseless as his name implies. Do not expect him to show you any mercy or to value anything other than his duties as a member of the Lin Kuei.

"Cyrax could be considered to be among the more reasonable of the Lin Kuei's members but he is still an assassin with all that that entails. He serves the grandmaster with pride but I have heard rumors that a new initiative has formed within the Lin Kuei that has caused Cyrax to oppose his master. Depending on the outcome of his efforts he may leave the clan but in doing so mark himself for death by those he once called his comrades."

"He knows too much and they would not risk that information landing in the hands of their enemies," Liu Kang said, proving that he could read between the lines. "Should he decide to leave the Lin Kuei we should try to render him aid. One honorable enough to turn from the darkness deserves to have his actions rewarded."

"If we are able to find him after he abandons his clan I agree we should do all we can to aid him. But be aware, Liu Kang, that if the White Lotus Society openly provides him sanctuary it may result in bringing the Lin Kuei down upon you and your brothers," he warned, not wanting his pupil to misunderstand what he would be committing them to by aiding Cyrax.

"Do we not already risk our lives in opposing dangerous forces?" Liu asked rhetorically, not backing down., "You and the other masters have taught me that Shao Kahn and his forces will not strike at us only at the tournament but in the years in between. They will use any means available to them in order to eliminate potential threats to their goal of conquering Earthrealm, including hiring the likes of the Lin Kuei to attack the Society. By aiding Cyrax we could gain valuable information on how to defend ourselves from them."

"We could indeed," he said with a smile of approval. "However do not think that he will divulge such information easily. While leaving the Lin Kuei might be proof enough that he no longer believes in them, betraying those who he once called comrade will not come easily to him, if at all.

"The third and last Lin Kuei I have confirmed as participating in the tournament is codenamed Sektor, and if I am right he has blood ties to the grandmaster himself. Unlike others who must desensitize themselves to the ruthless and bloody work of an assassin, this Lin Kuei warrior revels in the life he now leads." He frowned in disapproval. "He cares not for honor, not for concepts of right and wrong, but for completing whatever tasks he is charged with. His loyalty to the grandmaster appears to be absolute."

"Appears to be?" Liu Kang asked, sounding interested in clarification.

"Among such clans it is not uncommon for a subordinate to replace the master through bloody and fatal means, especially if the two are related," he replied, his disapproval remaining in his tone. "While Sektor might be loyal to the current grandmaster now, I fear he may well seek to replace him should an opportunity present itself."

"With such treachery and infighting it's amazing that they can still call themselves a clan." Liu Kang said, shaking his head with disapproval and exasperation.

"Some remain loyal because they believe that there is honor in belonging to a clan of assassins. Others stay because they fear that they will be killed should they leave," he said, enlightening his student. "Some remain simply because killing pleases them and do not care who holds the title of grandmaster. None of them should be underestimated."

A nod of acknowledgment was all he received and it was enough.

For the next hour he told his student of both the confirmed participants in the tournament as well as those suspected to be in the tournament. He did not limit himself to those who would indeed be fighting on behalf of Shao Kahn and Outworld but also potential allies who, while not White Lotus, could prove valuable in the defense of Earthrealm. He had little doubt that if the number of warriors who progressed past the elimination round slanted decidedly in favor of Outworld, Shang Tsung would almost certainly ensure that Liu Kang would have to fight ALL of them. One after another, with few if any breaks in between, in order to wear down the White Lotus representative so that even if Liu Kang made it to the deciding match, he would be in poor condition to win it. Then again perhaps Shang Tsung would make an effort to keep up the appearance of fairness but have assassins target his student between matches. It would, after all, matter little if some 'unaffiliated' contestants killed Liu Kang, since they would be expelled from the tournament immediately afterward… and were then provided with their payment afterwards.

If Earthrealm was to be kept safe from harm then allies would need to be made at the tournament among those who would prefer that it remain as it was rather than be merged with Outworld.

He would observe each native of Earthrealm as they fought in the elimination round to see which would stand the greatest chance of reaching the final matches. While he would prefer to aid and save as many as possible, he knew he could not stretch his efforts so thin with this being the tenth and final tournament Shao Kahn needed to invade. He needed to focus on those who were best suited to assuring an Earthrealm victory in the tournament and, while Liu Kang was a good start, more would be needed to counter the darkness of Outworld's warriors.

He prayed to the Elder Gods that Shang Tsung had been arrogant enough to invite Earthrealm warriors of strength and skill to compete in the tournament.

 _ **The Cabin of Johnny Cage**_

 _ **Johnny's POV**_

"Well, this has been swell so far," Jessie said from her seat on one of two bunk beds that were built into their cabin. "What a WONDERFUL smell you've discovered! Thanks, Cage. Really."

"Hey! I didn't know they'd be sending a coral infested heap of garbage here to pick us up," he said, defending himself from the camerawoman's accusation. "Sure, I figured it'd be old fashioned, but a little basic upkeep is to be expected with a tournament that's lasted centuries. It wouldn't have lasted long if everything was a pile of crap."

"Might just be mind games," Xander said from the wall he was leaned up against. "Doing the whole 'spooky ghost ship' bit to scare the weaklings so they'll drop out as soon as we get where we're going."

"What'd be the point?" Jessie asked, sounding interested in the line of thought.

"This tournament is basically one big death match. You aren't required to kill but you can if you want to." Xander turned to face the camerawoman, "By trying to psyche out the cowards and get them to drop out, there'll be fewer cases of winners choosing to let their opponents live."

"You mean the people in charge WANT the fighters to kill one another?" Jessie asked, sounding disturbed by the concept.

"The tournament IS called Mortal Kombat," Xander replied, pointing out what he considered obvious. "It might be a case of fraud if more than half the people who competed made it out alive. Plus, if some of the things a friend of mine told me about the guy in charge is true, then the matches ending in death work out the best for him."

"Okay! Stop right there," he said, inserting himself into the conversation. "I told you Xan: the stories your friend found are just that. Stories! No way any of it's true. This Tsung guy probably just gets his rocks off seeing people beat each other to death and gets pissed if they stop short of that."

"Great! So this tournament is being run by a sociopath," Jessie said, sounding less than thrilled at this bit of news. "Were you drunk when you accepted this invite?"

"I was completely sober. Got the invite from Master Boyd himself," he replied, defending his choice to take part in the tournament. "No way he woulda given it to me if there was something fishy going on."

"Maybe he doesn't know," Xander said, not quite willing to let the matter rest. "This tournament only happens once every fifty years and its special invite only. With that kind of space between them only the seriously hardcore or ancient would bother to keep tabs on it, especially if the people in charge of the tournament don't advertise it to the world."

He had to admit the kid had a point.

He might not have openly admitted it yet but he'd done some digging around himself by checking in with some friends he still kept in touch with from his old tournament days, asked them if they'd ever heard of the tournament or something like it along with any details they had if they had heard about it. Nothing. Some had heard of similar tournaments but the details didn't match up with what Master Boyd had told him and even less with the info Xander's friend had dug up. With so much empty air connected to Mortal Kombat, it was possible that his sensei hadn't known which places to check for the right information.

Still, it'd be something he'd have to see before he'd start believing.

"Whatever! You two can believe whatever you want," he said, doing his best to brush off the spooky speak like it didn't matter one bit. "Me? This tournament is my ticket to universal respect and maybe my next blockbuster if I can sell it to the guys at the studio. Academy awards here I come!"

Both of them rolled their eyes at him but he knew they'd stick with him until the end of the tournament just the same. Xander's taste in movies made it clear he was an action fan, so a martial arts tournament where anything went would be one helluva rush. Jessie had her work ethic; once she took a job she saw it through to the end, even if she did punch out some of her asshole bosses once she finished her job with them. He could count on the two of them to stay the course until things got super freaky and at that point he'd be right there with them running for the hills. He might want to get his rep back in top form but he wasn't crazy and he definitely wasn't going to kill anyone, even if egged on by whatever audience he had for his matches. You didn't need to kill your opponent to prove you were the better fighter and he wasn't so sick in the head that he'd kill for the entertainment of the people watching. They want death matches? Go find some underground cage match populated by low lifes and scumbags.

Master Boyd taught him better than that.

"Well, I'm gonna go have a look around," Jessie said, prepping her camera for use. "Take a couple of prologue shots before we get to the island. Though I'm not sure if that'll make you look better or worse."

"It'll show how serious I am about proving myself," he said with a smile. "After all, would a pampered wannabe action star with no skill get on a boat like this if he wasn't serious?"

"You're assuming they don't think that you had this whole boat prepared just like this to make them BELIEVE you're serious," Jessie pointed out, sounding like she believed a lot of the viewers of the proof would lean that way.

"Hey, haters gonna hate no matter what you do," he said, dismissing the possibility. "So long as enough of them see the truth, that's all that matters."

He'd known from day one that you couldn't be everything to everyone and that, even if you put on the best performance of your career, there'd always be people talking trash about you. The best you could manage was to get between eighty and eighty-five percent of the people to like you and cope with the mud the remaining fifteen percent sent your way.

"I think I'll join you," Xander said, pushing off the wall he was leaning against. "I think it's been a while since the janitor cleaned out whatever passes for a bathroom down here and I could use some fresh air."

"I got no problem with that," Jessie said with a nod of permission. "Always good to have a second opinion around that doesn't have a pyramid sized ego attached to it."

"HEY!" he said, offended by the idea. "My PRIDE is at least the size of Mount Everest and it's something well deserved."

"Whatever!" Xander said as he followed Jessie out of the cabin. "C'mon, let's leave the man alone with his best friend."

With that he was alone in the cabin but he was okay with that. After all there was one little bit of prep work that almost no one outside the business knew about but that every modern celebrity had to practice before stepping up to the microphone; the one liners, the sound bites and the phrases that whenever someone heard them they immediately thought of the celebrity that first spoke them.

Contrary to what some people thought it wasn't easy coming up with them and, even if they sounded good in the privacy of your own head, they didn't always work when you actually used them in front of an audience. Still, it was something the fans expected of their idol and far be it for him to upset the fans.

Looking into the slightly cracked mirror that was nailed to the wall of the cabin, he let his imagination go to work on coming up with something that was pure CAGE.

"Y'know, when a woman looks at me like that… it usually means something," he said in his best ladies' man voice.

No, no not quite right and the last bit is a little too vague, meaning it could give a lot of people an opening to suggest what the 'something' is. Shoving the words aside he tried to think up something that'd make him sound cooler and more impressive. Thinking back to all the greats that'd inspired him over the years he tried to draw inspiration from some of their best lines.

"Growing up, I was shy, I was weak. I actually got my ass kicked a lot. But martial arts changed all that and I was reborn. And that gave the world... Johnny Cage," he said, trying the 'common man' approach that seemed to work with the middle class crowd.

Better but still a little egotistical.

The crowd loved a man with confidence but hated ones that sounded like he thought he was better than the rest of them. The whole 'looking down in your inferiors' bit was the quickest way to turn everyone against you even if he was living the life that a lot of the nine to fivers could only dream of. He needed something that was both memorable but also something you might hear tossed around a bar after a long day of work.

Maybe something more like…

"You got Caged!" he declared like he'd just finished kicking someone's ass. "Yeah… yeah! This is it! Much better than what Max came up with last time! Can't believe I didn't think of this sooner."

One down. Twenty-nine more to go before the ship arrived at the island where the tournament would take place.

He had a lot of work to do.

 _ **Main Deck of the Mortal Kombat Tournament Ship**_

 _ **Xander's POV**_

"So how's it been? Being assistant to a major Hollywood movie star, I mean," Jessie asked as she slowly panned the lens of the camera across the deck of the ship.

"WAY different than what I'm used to," he replied as he let his eyes wander a bit in order to see if there was anything worth seeing within range. "You're looking at a recent high school graduate that had to dig around between sofa cushions for lunch money. Living in a mansion the past couple of weeks, going pretty much everywhere Johnny goes, it's definitely not what I expected when I went out on my graduation road trip."

"I know exactly what you mean," Jessie said with a smile of nostalgia and amusement. "Not the whole living with a movie star thing but the unexpected happening on a road trip. It was when I was starting out as a professional shot shooter and barely got paid enough to make ends meet. It's not a steady paycheck like most jobs are. You take a job, you finish a job, you get paid and start looking for a new job. Sometimes you get one right after the other one ends and sometimes it can be a whole year before you get a call from someone."

"Must be rough going from paycheck to paycheck," he said, picturing a rather chaotic life where you literally didn't know where your next paycheck was going from.

"It can be but if you charge what you're worth and manage your money right you can make it," she said, conceding the difficulty of a life without a steady paycheck. "ANYway, it was during my early days that I got a sweet deal of a job but the problem was I had to be on the other side of the country within two months."

"Doesn't sound so bad," he said, considering the various means of travel available. "Even if you had to move everything to whatever city you'd been hired to work in, two months would've been easy by moving van."

"The moving wasn't the problem. I'd locked down an apartment and sent my stuff ahead in the first two weeks," she said as she focused on the horizon ahead. "It was when I hopped on my motorcycle to get there that I hit a snag."

"What kind of snag?" he asked, wondering how bad it'd been.

"Well I got about as far as Portland, Oregon when my baby started complaining," she replied, eyes glossing over with memory. "So I ride'er off the highway and to the nearest decent looking repair shop I could find. Now, I consider myself a decent enough motorcycle enthusiast and I know how to do the basic upkeep but I could tell from the sounds my girl was making that it was something bigger than I could handle. The guy working out of the garage took about an hour to figure out what the problem was."

"How bad was it?" he asked, almost afraid to ask.

"Bad enough that even if I dumped the rest of my travel money into it, I'd still be three hundred dollars short. So I agreed to put down half my travel money as a down payment to get him started and I'd pay the rest at the end of the week," she replied, sounding like she'd made it a rule afterwards to get more proficient at fixing her bike herself. "The only problem with that was in order to pay off the repair bill quick enough to still make the deadline for my next job, I needed to earn some money and earn it quick. So I bought a local newspaper and started looking the want ads for something I could do and paid well. Too bad there were only a few jobs that'd hire a girl on the spot with little if any experience and paid well enough to get me back on the road."

"Is it as bad as I think it is?" he asked with some rather… unpleasant… possibilities coming to mind.

"Not really. Sure, it was an establishment that appealed to the basest male instincts and treated women as sexual objects but it was actually better than some of the places looking for employees," she replied, making her opinion of such places clear. "The employees were given complete control over how far things went and the bouncers were good at spotting trouble before it went too far. Some of the girls were complete bitches but some of them were decent enough and weren't planning to make a life of it any more than I was."

"So how long did you have to work there?" he asked, unable to restrain his curiosity.

"Three weeks. I know it seems long but customers aren't impressed with amateurish moves even if you've got a hot body," she replied with a shrug of her shoulders. "One of the girls, Miri, took pity on me and spent a couple of hours showing me the moves that'd get me the best tips and which regulars were known to drop serious coin when they stopped by. Add to that a list of troublemakers that got overlooked because the manager of the club liked how his profits went up when they arrived and I quickly turned things around."

 _Makes me glad Uncle Rory took another look at my car or it mighta been me shakin' my booty on stage to get it fixed someplace,_ he thought with a mental shudder at the imagery his imagination had come up with.

"See boys! I knew there was some entertainment on this garbage scow!" a male voice said with a noticeable Irish accent originating behind him.

Turning around he found three men all of who looked pretty chiseled and definitely the sort of people who took pride in defying what society considered good and proper behavior. From the phrases or images on their t-shirts to how they were looking at Jessie made it clear that they were on the scum side of the tournament participant list. They were also a little too similar to Larry and the rest of his Cro-Mag pals, so he immediately placed himself between the new arrivals and Jessie.

"Sorry, boys, but the lady has certain work standards. They're not met and she doesn't do a single twirl," he said, trying to keep things polite hoping that the trio would be easy to discourage.

"Well, we're not fussy, are we guys?" the leader with the Irish accent asked rhetorically as he repositioned a barrel before sitting down on it. "While Ian here likes pole dancing, I'm more of a lap dance person myself. Close, hot, heavy… mmmmmm almost as good as a fuck but we'll talk about that later, luv."

"In your dreams, pig!" Jessie said, not holding back her revulsion and distaste for the Irishman. "I'd sooner be this kid's sex slave for an entire WEEK than perform for the likes of you!"

"Now that ain't nice, girly," the Irishman said, his tone less friendly. "Me and my pals wouldna hurt ya… much, just had a little fun to pass the time 'til all the fighting starts. Besides, I'm pretty sure you'd have more fun with me than a kid too young to get into a decent club."

"I got nothing against ladies who choose to go into that line of work of their own free will. Freedom of choice and all that," he said, making it clear he wasn't going to step aside, "but the whole 'no means no' thing is something I can get behind. Find something else to amuse yourselves with."

"Nah," the Irishman said as he got up off the barrel and strode forwards. "There's plenty of fun to be had here, even if it won't be much more than a warm up."

It took him three seconds to figure out what the Irishman and his two pet thugs had planned but that was enough to keep him from getting his guard up. As a result he got clocked hard in the jaw by the Irishman, staggering him back a bit but not taking him off his feet, much less causing him to lose consciousness like the asshole probably wanted. Thanks to his time fighting vampires and demons, not to mention Johnny's training, both his body and his mind were more resilient than your average person's. When the bastard tried for another punch he was ready for it and with a combo of his inherited soldier memories and Johnny's lessons he managed to block and then counter it with a punch of his own. It only grazed the Irishman's jaw but he could tell the guy hadn't been expecting it to connect at all and so the idiot instinctively took a few steps back.

"Well, well! Kid's got some moves after all," Irishman said with a bit of amusement. "Maybe you'll be more of a warm up than I thought."

The guy went on the offensive again but this time, without the element of surprise. He followed the tips the movie star had given him about physical tells most fighters gave off that could let him know if it was a kick that was coming next or a punch. This was useful since he was by no means learned enough about the martial arts to be able to identify what style his opponent was using after a quick exchange. He had a feeling he'd need every edge he could get his hands on just to come out of this fight with as few bruises as possible, and that included seizing every opportunity to end things quickly that came his way. Using the Shito-ryu style that Johnny had taught him, he focused on two of the five rules of defense known as 'Uke no go gensoku' in order to deal with the Irishman.

The first was called kushin and involved bouncing back from an opponent's attack while storing energy so that it could be utilized for immediate counterattack. Taking the offensive against his opponent was a mistake since he was not experienced enough to beat a seasoned fighter head on. Instead he'd wait for the moment before his foe would draw back from an attack to strike, hoping that at that moment when attack had ended and defense could not yet be utilized he'd score a hit. If he hit enough of them and made them count, it could be enough to scare the asshole off, if only to tend his wounds and plan payback for later.

The second was called ryusui, which involved flowing around an attacker's motion and, through it, soft blocking. He was under no delusion that a direct hit from the Irishman would hurt and possibly result in some of his bones being broken, cutting his chances of coming out of this encounter okay significantly. Thus, when he couldn't evade the attacks entirely, he'd need to block them but it a way that wouldn't indirectly damage him thanks to the force behind the blows. Soft blocking focused more on redirecting the blows and diverting them away from their target and, while it was more difficult than hard blocking, which basically just called for a limb to be put in the way of an attack, he'd manage. Johnny had demonstrated a few such blocks to him and had him practice them before he got bored and decided to move their lesson on to something more amusing.

Whether it was luck or someone previously unforeseen aptitude for the martial arts, the fight endured longer than anyone present likely expected it would. After all if this had taken place in Vegas for an official match, most people would've bet on the seasoned fighter rather than the rookie, but in this case the rookie was managing to hold his own for the time being. There were times when he incorrectly judged the right moment to attack and paid the price but there were also times when he managed to land a solid blow or two. Sometimes all he could manage was a single strong blow before he was forced to pull back and other times he managed a combination attack. By the time that ten minutes had passed, both he and the Irishman showed signs of the fight's progress through fatigue as well as damage and he felt some satisfaction in the fact that he'd managed to do so well.

Too bad the Irishman had a different opinion.

"You little shit!" the Irishman growled, clearly having lost his amusement for the 'warm up'. "You think you have what it takes to throw down with the big dogs?! Think again! IAN!"

"AAAHHHH!" came a female voice that caught his attention immediately and foolishly caused him to turn his eyes in the direction of the voice.

 _Motherfucker!_ He saw that the two cronies of the Irishman had at some point during the fight moved closer to Jessie and now held the camerawoman in their grasp.

Based on her personality he'd thought that Jessie would've at least thrown down a couple of times in the last couple of years, enough that she could hold her own in a bar brawl, but there was one little fact that made her lack of retaliation understandable; One thug had a serrated blade at her throat and it wouldn't take much movement for it to rip open her jugular leading her to bleed out in under a minute.

"Here're the new ground rules, boyo," the Irishman said, sounding maliciously happy. "From here on out you keep your arms down and don't fight back even a lick. One block, one attack, and Ian gives the bitch an ear to ear grin you'll never forget. You cooperate and maybe the two of you come out of this without a stay in intensive care. Maybe."

He growled with frustration at the predicament but knew he had no real choice in the matter. Even if, as he suspected, the asshole had no intention of letting either of them live, he still could not act. If he did he would bear some guilt for Jessie's death, regardless of whether or not he succeeded in kicking the trio's asses somehow. He couldn't bring himself to do so even if she was the wrong gender and the situation wasn't the same, his mind continued to remind him of Jesse's fate and the look on his corpse's undead face before it turned to dust.

He had seen the death one of one Jesse; he would not be the cause of another.

Lowering his arms to his side, he thought of how he'd likely miss the entire tournament and, if it was as bloody as Giles had implied, he'd likely die on the island. After all when you ran a tournament where killing your opponent was the preferred way of ending things, why would you bother to heal a nobody or get him back to the mainland so he could get to a hospital.

 _This was SO not the way I wanted to go out,_ he thought as the Irishman began to wail on him in various painful ways. _I was supposed to go out either taking my worst enemy with me or as an old man in bed surrounded by kids, grand-kids and maybe even a great grand-kids._

Guess you can't always get what you want.

 _ **Lower Decks**_

 _ **Sonya Blade's POV**_

 _No luck finding Kano or Jax below deck,_ she thought as she approached the steps that'd take her out into the open air. _Probably a good thing for me since the Arc Bands still need time to recharge._

It was times like these that made her wish that the tech boys back at S.F. HQ would work on a way to improve the capacity of the weapon's power cells. Don't get her wrong, they were VERY useful and could do a variety of things that'd helped her out of more than one scrape, but the fact that they didn't last longer than two hours of continuous use before needing a recharge was annoying. Throughout her military career she knew that battles rarely finished within that short time frame and, when it came to hunting down Kano, it could sometimes go from dusk to dawn. The only good thing about them was that the energy cells could be recharged by sunlight or electricity, so the place she'd hidden them would be good enough to fully charge them by the time the ship reached the island.

Now some might think that if they could be recharged both by sunlight and electricity then how could the power cells ever run dry? The answer was twofold: first the sun was only up for half the day at best and second the speed at which the cells absorbed new energy was pathetic. To go from bone dry to a full charge using solar energy took eight hours and when using electricity to recharge them it still took four hours. Add to that the fact that it took half an hour for enough of a charge to build up to fire off a full strength blast and it was safe to say that there were improvements to be made in the energy cell's design.

Her thoughts left her weapon as her ears picked up the sound of a fight up ahead and, worried that Kano might be the source of the commotion, she picked up the pace advancing up the steps two at a time. When she finally emerged onto the deck of the ship she found not Kano but rather a young man in his late teens getting used as a punching bag by a brute of a man. This alone was enough to motivate her to intervene but her reasons only doubled when she noticed two other thugs a short distance away holding a twenty-something brunette woman hostage. With years of experience and a bit of common sense she discerned that the young man wasn't fighting back because the bastard pummeling him had threatened his big sister with harm via his minions.

Thus her course became clear to her: free the woman from her captors and hope the young man was still in decent enough shape to pull off a win, otherwise she'd have to KO the minions and hope she could get to their leader in time to save the college kid.

"Ooops! That looked like you were thinking about fighting back," the leader said with an Irish accent. "Guess you need a bit of proof to show that we're serious. Ian? I don't like the way she looks at me. Take out an eye."

"Uh… which one, boss?" Ian asked, halfway to obeying before stopping in indecision.

"Surprise me," the leader replied with a bit of annoyance.

 _No time for the subtle approach!_ She began to sprint towards the hostage and the two minions, hoping she'd get there in time.

"No," came a hoarse word of objection from the young man as he got back to his feet, albeit with moments of instability.

"More back talk?" the leader asked rhetorically with malicious amusement. "Ian? Make it BOTH her eyes. Make it HURT!"

"NO!" the recovering young man yelled with greater strength before bringing up his clenched right hand to deliver a punch.

 _There's no way it's going to connect in the shape he's in!_ she thought, increasing her pace to take advantage of the distraction the young man was proving.

She was wrong.

Before her very eyes the young man's fist streaked towards his foe but as it went something impossible happened: electricity seemed to crackle around the arm from just below the elbow all the way to the fist. The energy grew in intensity so that, when it finally made contact with the shocked Irishman, it wasn't stopped by flesh, by bone or by brain. It just kept on going until it came out the other side, letting everything from the wrist onward be seen in all its blood-covered goriness. To say that all were shocked, horrified and more than a little nauseated would be something of an understatement but the young man simply wrenched his arm free of the corpse he had created before turning to the minions. Cowards, like most minions were, they immediately released the woman before running for their lives, with the one that'd wielded the knife dropping it in the process. With a little luck the scare they'd just received would make them rethink their lives and abandon the whole career as hired thugs.

Looking back to the young man who somehow had generated electricity without any visible signs of technology and had driven his fist through another man's skull, she decided to do what she could to tend to his injuries. Like any good soldier she'd packed a First Aid kit along with a few additions both to take care of herself and her friend Jax if he was in poor condition when she found him. Walking towards the young man, she prepared to speak and offer to patch him up when the electricity that the kid had generated to finish off his opponent began to spread to the rest of his body, random arcs leaping off to strike nearby things at random. More than once she had to take a step back in order to avoid being hit and this made her wonder just how much control the teenager had over his… ability.

"Hey! You want to turn down the voltage?" she asked as she was forced once more to retreat. "The assholes are gone. Both you and the woman are safe."

"I…would…if I…could…" the young man replied, sounding as though he was under increasing strain. "…but…AAAAHHHHH!"

The amount of energy being emitted by the teenager leapt in order of magnitude and, whether it was by choice or luck, it stopped just shy of the woman who looked to be truly considering leaping over the side of the boat in order to get away from the danger. She didn't know how to handle this. It wasn't in any of classes she'd taken in school, hadn't been drilled into her by her teachers at boot camp and certainly hadn't come up outside of those two environments. One thing she did know though was that unless it was stopped the boat could very well suffer serious damage to the point of everyone swimming home.

Things only got weirder a moment later when, with a flash of light and a cascade of lightning bolts, a man appeared dressed in white and blue with one of those Japanese rice hats on his head. For a moment she was worried that he'd be killed by the energy the young man was giving off but to, her surprise, the arcs of electricity BOUNCED off the man's body like raindrops before sputtering out of existence.

"Focus… your… MIND," the man said as he gripped the sides of the teenager's head. "All control begins with focus. Calm the storm within you and you will dispel the storm without."

While she'd have been suspicious of an unknown, she also knew that in this sort of situation you took whatever help you could get. As a result, when she began to notice a change in the chaotic emissions of energy coming from the young man, she began to think be that the newcomer was positive influence on the situation.

Too bad it didn't last.

A minute later and she could see signs of whatever control the teenager had managed to exert slipping through his metaphorical fingers. Whether it was because of the unfamiliarity with the power or the young man's wounds sapping his mental strength she didn't know. As time passed the chaos was returning, making her wonder what else could be done other than asking the kid to dig deep and try again.

"I have no choice then," the unknown man said with some regret. "Prepare yourself. This will not be… pleasant."

A field of energy formed about the older man and you could see the difference between his and the young man's right away. Then an unseen force began to pull at the more chaotic field, drawing it towards the more controlled one before they merged and it was then that she realized what the oddly dressed man was doing. He was ABSORBING the kid's energy! Drawing it into his own body, the scattered arcs that'd been leaping from the teenager's body began to decrease in frequency. Minutes had passed and the electricity coming off the kid had returned to what it'd been after the leader of the thug brigade had been killed.

Then it vanished entirely thirty seconds later and the young man went limp, held up only by the older man's hands.

"Is he okay?" she asked, hoping that she hadn't just seen some kind of electric vampire feeding.

"He will be with time," the older man replied, lowering the young man to the ground with surprising gentleness.

Well that was one thing in their favor.

"What… the FUCK… was THAT!?" the woman asked, apparently having recovered enough of her wits to speak.

"Something that hasn't happened in a thousand years," the man replied, eyes never leaving the teenager. "An Awakening."

 _ **Johnny Cage's POV**_

"Whoa, whoa, WHOA!" he exclaimed as the door opened to reveal the blonde that'd caught his eye on the docks and the weird guy with the cone hat as well as some kung fu Bruce Lee guy. "What the hell happened!?"

The reason for his exclamation had to do with the fact that Xander was out cold on the cone hat guy's arms, looking like one of the nameless nobodies in his film that his character beat the crap out of. Already some swelling was showing up on the patches of skin not covered by fabric and, while not bleeding so bad that his shirt would change colors, he'd have some noticeable scarring afterwards. Watching as the cone hat guy set the unconscious assistant down on the nearest bed, a noise caused him to look back at the door to see a borderline freaking out Jessie with bruises on her arms that looked like handprints.

"Three guys on the boat decided to use your assistant as a punching bag," the blonde he'd eyed on the docks replied taking up a position by the door. "Held your lady friend at knife point to make sure he wouldn't fight back."

"MotherFUCKERS!" he yelled, taking off his suit jacket and heading for the door to the cabin. "I'm gonna kick their asses! All three of them!"

"T-there's only two now," Jessie said, sounding like she really wished she had something to settle her nerves. "Xander killed one of them."

"What? Xander!?" he said, snapping his head in her direction. "Kid might be a little intense about some things but he wouldn't kill someone."

"He did. Punched a hole right through the guy's skull," the blonde baby saidt sounding utterly convinced of her version of the story. "Literally."

"What've you been smokin'?" he asked, shaking his head in denial. "People can't punch holes through people! Not in real life, anyways."

"Look! I know what I saw but I'm still waiting for something a little more comprehensive than 'an Awakening' from the guy in the straw hat," the blonde bombshell snapped, showing she was a little tightly wound trying to make sense of what she'd seen. "So how about it?"

"There are layers to your world, to this dimension, that you do not know about. Layers that you've been taught to see as fiction or nonsense," Kung fu guy replied as he partially turned towards the army blonde. "To those who know the truth, the dimension you live in is known as Earthrealm. It is home to more sentient races than just humans and not all of them belong here. Humanity once knew this back when they still worshipped more than one god and had minds that were more open to the forces that existed outside the realm of science."

"For untold generations men and Gods worked as one to protect this realm against those that threatened it, both from within and without," the man with the white freaky eyes said, sounding as dramatic as kung fu guy. "Over time, though, it was determined by… higher powers that casual interaction with deities increased the likelihood of mortals falling victim to the temptations presented by darker forces. As a result of this one thousand years ago a decree was sent out to every pantheon in the realm that interaction with mortals be kept to a minimum and in adherence to very specific requirements. As a result truth became legend and legend became myth until few if any knew the truth."

"By the decree of those same higher powers, mortals were influenced to begin trying to understand their world through logical reasoning and deduction. To some this was done in order to 'mature' humanity beyond their 'primitive' ways of thinking," Kung fu guy said with a bit of dislike in his voice. "To those with the eyes to look past the obvious, though, the promotion of logic and science was actually meant to be a trap. Matters of the supernatural and demonic aren't always logical. Science and its corresponding tools can barely grasp how magic works. It was intended to make mortals dismiss promises of power and immortality not grounded in science as the ramblings of the mentally disturbed."

"People don't tend to buy from nutcases," the blonde babe said, understanding the point of the so-called decree.

"Indeed. However there was a flaw in the decree," the older man said in an ominous way. "By reducing contact with divine beings and encouraging mortals to abandon the old teachings as nonsense, mortals were rendered largely helpless against demons and other malicious entities. Where before they would have known the signs to be wary of and how to defend themselves against certain threats they now knew nothing."

"What does this have to do with Xander?" he asked, loving the story time but not getting the point of it all.

"Prior to the decrees it was not uncommon for deities to fall in love with mortals and from these relationships demigods were sometimes born," Kung fu guy replied, turning to face him directly. "Such beings were metaphorical gray areas, neither mortal nor god, and as such were immune to entanglements designed to affect one race or the other. Some possessed abilities akin to their deity parent while others merely possessed enhanced physical abilities well beyond those of mortals. Normally they are eased into their divine heritage from a young age but some, like your friend here, come into it all at once, usually in response to significant physical or emotional duress. Such moments are almost always violent since the demigod has no previous experience controlling power on that level."

"So he popped his divine cork?" he asked rhetorically as he tried to comprehend what he was being told.

"Something like that," Kung fu guy replied, sounding a little off.

"Is he going to be okay?" the blonde bombshell asked with a little concern.

"I had to siphon off a large quantity of his power when he proved incapable of reigning it in himself," Cone Hat Guy guy replied, sounding like he was sorry he had done so. "He will likely sleep for the remainder of the trip to the island and be weak for a few hours after that, but he will recover."

"Well that's good," he said, glad that his assistant and friend wouldn't be KOed for good.

"However, depending on who may have witnessed the fight and its conclusion, the young man may wish he had stayed in Japan," the old guy said with concern in his voice.

"What do you mean?" he asked, not liking what he was hearing.

"If it was witnessed by one of the subordinates of Shang Tsung, the current tournament grandmaster, one of the lesser used rules might be utilized," the old guy said, sounding like he'd prefer it if this didn't happen.

"And that rule would be?" he asked, wanting to know if he should be prepared for trouble.

"If a noncombatant succeeds in defeating a participant prior to the beginning of tournament, he becomes 'eligible' to take the defeated participant's place," the old guy replied with all the seriousness that was due to the situation. "I fear that the young man's acceptance may be… enforced."

"They can't do that!" he exclaimed at the idea of Xander competing in the tournament. "Xander's got some moves but he's never competed in a single tournament in his entire life. Hell, he's never even made it to his first black belt!"

"That is precisely what Shang Tsung may be hoping for," the old guy said with contempt. "One of the goals of the tournament is for one faction to gain ten straight victories. Shang Tsung and the faction he represents have been victorious nine times thus far. If they win this tournament it will be their tenth straight victory. Shang Tsung is not above manipulating circumstances to achieve his goals."

"He's going to set Xander up," the blonde babe said with anger and dislike. "Pay off his opponents to throw the matches so he goes to the final rounds then have one of his fighters massacre him."

"Indeed. He will know Xander is weak, unskilled, and therefore if he ensures that he makes it to the final rounds instead of a more skilled fighter, then victory for his faction is one match closer," the old man said with a grim tone. "It is unlikely that Xander will survive his defeat. Tsung prefers that the matches in the final rounds end in death."

 _I shoulda listened to ya, Xander,_ he thought as he looked at his sleeping friend, _but I'm gonna make it right. Promise._

"So what do we do?" the blonde beauty asked, sounding like she was on board if the idea was a good one.

"We put Xander through the quickest crash course in professional fighting in the world. Train him between matches," he replied with resolve that would've made his former master proud. "Make it so when he hits the final rounds he'll be ready to throw down with the big boys."

"You really think there's a chance in hell of that working?" the babe asked, sounding like she was a born skeptic.

"It has to. It's his only chance," the old man in the rice hat replied with the feel of storm clouds on the horizon.

 _ **The Hallway of the Lower Deck**_

 _ **Raiden's POV**_

 _So, the time for hiding is done,_ he thought as he left the cabin where young Alexander lay sleeping. _Elder Gods protect you._

Indeed he doubted very much that there was a single being with a whit of astral sensitivity that hadn't sensed Alexander's Awakening. The Elder Gods without a doubt knew but so did the surviving members of the other pantheons and THEM. A few mortals with great magical potential or other demigods would sense something but only those in close proximity to the boat they currently travelled on. In any case he suspected that those few survivors of the massacre of the past would sense the change as well and take action to finish what they started.

He would not let them.

Throughout the ages, the Renewal Enchantment had caused the soul to migrate from body to body within a specific bloodline, leaving one as it died only to be reborn in another. Throughout it all the power had remained sealed behind the strongest of magicks in order to conceal it from those who would know it for what it was. He knew little of what had occurred between now and when the enchantment had originally been cast, only what had been passed on by those old friends he'd trusted to keep watch, but what he had heard never failed to bring a proud smile to his face.

Regardless of the age or body, some things never failed to ring true.

However before he could even think of protecting the young demigod from those that had sought his end in lives past, he first needed to do what he could to keep Alexander safe from Shang Tsung and the forces of Outworld. The information he provided to Johnny Cage and Sonya Blade was true but did not reveal the worst case scenario, for he preferred not to think of it himself. Outworld, and Shang Tsung in particular, had a history of taking some of Earthrealm's most prodigious warriors and perverting them into dark reflections of their former selves. Some he had been able to turn back towards the light with the help of the fallen one's friends. The others… he had been forced to vanquish before they could tarnish their honorable name further.

In the case of Alexander the sorcerer would see the boy as tempting prey indeed, either as a soul to devour or as raw materials for a new warrior under his complete control. Shang Tsung might feign undying loyalty to the Emperor of Outworld but, like all who coveted power, the stealer of souls would never remain satisfied with what he had forever. If an opportunity presented itself to betray Shao Kahn and seize the warlord's power for his own, Tsung would not hesitate.

Having a twisted demigod as his loyal subordinate along with Prince Goro could be the weapons the stealer of souls needed to ensure his power grab's success.

That was why he'd chosen to trust in Sonya Blade and Johnny Cage to train Alexander since he would need to devote all his focus towards anticipating Tsung's schemes and countering them. As he proceeded towards the cabin that he shared with Liu Kang, he reaffirmed his belief that the representative of the White Lotus Society was the best chance Earthtrealm had of winning the tournament. He'd be a fool to think that his evil counterpart wouldn't come to the same conclusion and take steps to make the martial artist meet with 'an unfortunate accident'. With this being the final victory needed in order for Shao Kahn to merge Earthrealm and Outworld, Tsung would be under great pressure from the warlord to succeed. Failure would likely mean the sorcerer's death since his master was not in the habit of rewarding defeat with continued life. Truthfully he cared not what happened to foul manipulator of life should Earthrealm achieve victory in this tournament and only hoped that whoever was chosen to replace him did not prove to be more competent or dangerous.

Opening the door to the cabin he walked to the window while Liu Kang sat down on the bed, no doubt with a desire for a deeper explanation for what had just happened.

"I know that you are curious and you are right to think that there may be a deeper meaning to the tale I told the others, but it is something I must keep to myself for the time being," he said as his student sat down on the nearby bed.

"Something that might interest Shang Tsung even more than a newly awakened demigod?" Liu asked, sounding concerned about the future.

"Yes, but if we are careful any plans he concocts will not succeed," he replied, proud at the courage the warrior before him exhibited.

"Perhaps then I should lend what help I can to Alexander's training as well," Liu Kang said with a nod of commitment. "Even if he does not possess the experience to win the tournament, it would be irresponsible not to do what we could to ensure that he survived to gain that experience."

"Do what you can but be sure not to draw too much attention to him," he cautioned even as he approved. "Without a doubt Shang Tsung will see you as the greatest threat to his ambitions and so he will be watching you with a careful eye. If he chooses to view Alexander as a threat too soon or believes his death would affect you psychologically, then he will not make it to the final rounds to surprise the sorcerer."

"Wise council as always, Lord Raiden," Liu Kang said with a seated bow of respect.

Moving to the opposite bed, he had much to meditate on. While his gaze and scouts had told him much about those that would be participating in the tournament, there was some information that he could not obtain without being noticed. Now, on the boat, he could stretch forth with his divine senses to properly evaluate each passenger both to determine which side they would fight for as well as how dangerous they were. The better he understood the metaphorical lay of the land where the competitors were concerned, the better he could guard against foul play designed to tilt the odds in Outworld's favor.

Reaching out with his mind he sifted through the mental energy that all living things gave off, seeking those whose strength placed them above the average warriors. Once the herd had been narrowed he began to take the measure of those who remained and was pleased to find two whose souls shone with potent light. Indeed they were strong and, based on what he sensed, they were not tarnished with darkness either by their own actions or by the deeds of another.

The first he sensed was of the Apache tribe and, while the various groups had little political unity, there was no denying the ties that connected them to each other. Some lived in cities living their lives like any other American while others remained true to their ancestral ways, remaining spiritually connected to the land. With the spirits as their allies the shaman among them were capable of great things and offered formidable protection to the mortals of Earthrealm. From what he could sense this one was as powerful as any he had met in the past when his travels took him to the lands of the Apache and this was proven when the man noticed his presence. Out of courtesy to the fellow defender of the realm he gave the psychic equivalent of a nod of respect before withdrawing from the man's room to examine the other soul that could be a potential ally.

This one sensed his mystical gaze almost immediately, implying a mind sensitive to psionic energy whether it was natural or magical in nature. A telepath, perhaps? He could also sense a spiritual weapon of great strength in the man's possession. He did not believe this second possibility was a shaman like the first but without a doubt he was a warrior of considerable skill. However, peering deeper, he could also sense a burning anger within the man, a thirst for revenge, that, while not all consuming, held the potential to be powerfully provoked.

He hoped that this warrior had discipline enough to keep the bigger picture in mind.

Withdrawing back to his body he was disappointed that more worthy warriors had not been called by destiny to defend their realm against Shao Kahn's evil. He suspected that, even with the momentum they possessed and the formidable warrior known as Goro as the second last opponent, Outworld had still kept an eye out for potential obstacles. If any warrior showed the potential to overcome Outworld's warriors they had likely been killed or their threat neutralized in some effective way. Some schemes he had been able to thwart, others he had arrived too late to save and a few had fallen without him even being aware of their existence.

 _The path between light and dark is not to be taken lightly,_ he thought as he opened his eyes. _Few are those who walk it willingly and survive. Fewer still walk it without realizing it._

He prayed that the darkness would not succeed in extinguishing the light in the coming tournament.

If it did he feared the light would never again reignite to bring hope to those that needed it.


	4. Decisive, Destructive and

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the copyrighted material contained herein. They are the rightful property of their respective creators and/or associated companies. I make no profit from this whatsoever and I have no intention of changing that at any point in the future. I write because it's fun and because there are those who enjoy reading my work. Therefore I would greatly appreciate it if no legal action was taken against me. I can promise you that whatever you get from me won't cover even a fifth of your legal fees.

 _ **The Tournament Island of Mortal Kombat**_

 _ **The Grand Palace**_

 _ **Shang Tsung's POV**_

He looked down at the docks from the balcony of his palace and wondered which among the foolish warriors of Earthrealm would progress far enough to provide him with some decent entertainment. He knew of Raiden's chosen champion and his spies had gathered much information of the Shaolin's prowess as a warrior. That some referred to the man as the second coming of the legendary Kung Lao of old was in his mind mere wishful thinking. Even if it were true, his champion Goro had already proven himself more than capable of dispatching such a warrior. Not that he intended to let Liu Kang get that far in the tournament, for with Outworld on the verge of its tenth and final victory over Earthrealm he could not afford to fail. As proof of the importance of this tournament his master Shao Kahn had sent two of his newest creations. One would participate openly in the tournament, using his power to overwhelm the warriors of Earthrealm, while the other would serve as spy and, if the need arose, assassin.

The former was a fusion of souls created by the Emperor called Ermac, granting the created warrior potent telekinetic power that, with inventive application, could prove quite devastating. Also since it was a collection of souls given physical form, it could teleport at will to catch its opponent by surprise from a blind spot. Like all creations of power, though, he knew that the Emperor had been sure to insert certain compulsions and mental blocks in order to ensure that the fusion of souls could not betray him.

The latter was a creation that he had a hand in and was, in a sense, the organic counterpart to the first warrior for she was the distilled fusion of numerous warrior bloodlines. Indeed, he'd even travelled to Earthrealm to collect the essence of one of their fabled champions in order to maximize her physical potential as a warrior. However it was her special ability, her connection to blood, that was truly impressive for with every drop of it that landed on her skin she grew STRONGER. Whether the foe was just another human, a user of magic or even a deity, she would gain strength from physically absorbing their blood.

In other words the more powerful the opponent, the stronger she would become and, with the loss of blood from the wounds she inflicted, they would grow weak.

In fact he sensed her approach even now.

Turning towards the door that granted entry onto the balcony, he watched as it opened to admit the crimson haired 'woman' known as Skarlet. She was clad in clothes common to Earthrealm and had travelled on the boat that had docked mere moments ago, delivering the last of those who would be sacrificed for Outworld's glory. He had sent her to gather whatever last minute information could be obtained of Raiden and those under his protection just in case there were any last minute developments. With the aid of his sorcery he had ensured that the thunder god would not notice her presence or guess at her allegiance so, unless she drew attention to herself, the protector of Earthrealm would have little reason to censor his words.

"I have returned," Skarlet said as she went down on bended knee half a dozen feet away from him.

"What news do you have to report of Raiden and his fighters?" he asked, not expecting much but paying attention nonetheless.

"Both arrived aboard the ship with me. The thunder god assessed those being transported for potential allies as you anticipated," she replied, never raising her eyes to meet his. "However there is another matter he was involved with that you may wish to be aware of."

"Oh?" he asked with mild interest.

"One of the passengers on the boat, a servant of Johnny Cage, became involved in an altercation with one of the tournament entrants. They fought and, when the fight turned against the participant, he employed others to ensure that the servant would not fight back at all," Skarlet replied, providing a summary of the event. "When the entrant judged that the servant had contemplated defiance he ordered the others to remove one of the hostage's eyes."

"Is there a point to this?" he asked, growing impatient and wishing to know why the maiming of one of Mister Cage's entourage was worth reporting.

"The servant became enraged and began to generate arcs of electricity around his fist and then later his forearm. He succeeded in striking the entrant's head but did so with enough force to penetrate the skull and come out the other side," she replied, her tone unchanging. "He then began to emit ever greater amounts of electricity and, were it not for the thunder god's intervention, the boat's integrity may have been threatened."

"Interesting. Did you learn the name of this servant?" he asked, wondering if he had overlooked someone.

"Xander," she replied promptly.

Cage's personal assistant? He had seen the boy in his guise as Johnny Cage's former mentor and thought him no more relevant than any other martial arts amateur. Perhaps in time, with the correct teacher, Xander might become a threat to the Outworld and its warriors but that presumed that Earthrealm would be permitted to retain such teachers after Shao Kahn's armies invaded. He knew from what he had learned of the Emperor's past conquests that one of the first things done upon invasion was to eliminate any inhabitant possessing sufficient skill to oppose him. Even if they were no longer physically capable of fighting, so long as they possessed the knowledge that could be passed on to the younger generation they would still be slain.

Now, however, it appeared as though the boy possessed formidable power and, if his initial suspicions were correct, could prove to be a problem with it alone.

 _Perhaps he could be not only a problem but a potential unwitting fool as well,_ he thought as he stroked his gray beard.

The young were ever eager to prove themselves and, if they gained power, a few victories were usually all it took to make that power go to their heads. Properly played, he could manipulate Cage's associate into being the final combatant of the tournament only to lose terribly to either him or Goro, thus confirming Outworld's tenth victory. Raiden would no doubt anticipate this plan and attempt to rush the training of the boy in the use of his powers and the martial arts. However any warrior worth their mettle knew that skills hastily acquired did not hold up when pitted against those who'd gained their prowess over time. It was one of the reasons why Skarlet, Ermac and one of his currently in progress projects had their skill imprinted on their minds. The imprints had been taken from warriors possessing near identical physical prowess and body types so that the constructs would not make mistakes when executing their attacks.

Cage's assistant would not have this advantage.

Still… if he could somehow drive a wedge between Raiden and the boy, it would ensure that any words of caution would fall of deaf ears. Then it would be only at the end that Xander would realize the height of his folly before having his body crushed and his soul harvested. Looking over at Skarlet, he smiled as he took in her appearance and an idea began to form within his mind of a possible way in which such a wedge could be both crafted and set into place.

There was, after all, another thing common to young men of the modern age.

A period of observation would be required in order to ensure success but fortunately the preliminaries would provide ample time for that. Indeed, for the next two weeks all that would take place would be the preliminaries in which the weak would be weeded out, leaving only the strong to take part in the final rounds. They would fall, of course, but why dine on refuse when he could absorb powerful souls instead.

Summoning an Orb of Seeing, he placed it on the floor before Skarlet.

"Observe the boy from a safe distance. Learn what you can of him," he ordered as he stepped away from her. "How he thinks, how he acts and most importantly his taste in women. The orb will allow you to communicate with me and, when the opportunity presents itself, will allow me to observe myself. To aid you in this I will provide you with a proper disguise."

With this he raised his hands and used his magic to change her 'civilian' appearance into something that would better conceal her identifying features from sight. It would not do for her to be identified as a spy when the time came for her to get close to the boy and influence his mind so that he would be more receptive to manipulation. When they had all the information they needed to fabricate an appropriate… 'acquaintance'… for the boy, Skarlet would make contact and integrate herself into Raiden's group. If necessary he would send Reptile or Baraka to 'attack' her in such a way that the thunder god and his fighters would dismiss the notion that she could be a spy sent by him.

 _Yes. This boy will prove most useful indeed,_ he thought. "Now go and report back to me when you have learned anything of significance!"

"As you command," she said before picking up the orb and stashing it in a pouch tied to her waist.

As the door to his palace's interior closed behind the blood construct, he began to think of ways to guide matters along the desired course and who might need the touch of his magic in order to ensure they did as he commanded.

He could not fail.

Not when his very life required that he succeed.

 _ **The Western Island Docks**_

 _ **Xander's POV**_

"Soooo… what? I'm a human bug zapper now?" he asked as he strolled down the docks behind the other fighters and alongside allies both new as well as old.

"A demigod. Half mortal, half deity," Raiden, the supposed God of Thunder and Lightning, replied with a voice that contained both power as well as wisdom.

He'd be lying if he said he wasn't a little bit skeptical of the being's claim but he had to admit that the weird eyes and the tricks with electricity did favor this possibility. Especially given how the man had managed to keep him from going nuclear on the boat killing everyone onboard. He still felt a little out of it and Raiden had said that it would probably take another few hours before he was completely back to normal.

Though what normal meant for him now was anyone's guess.

He'd managed to get a look in the mirror before they left the boat so one thing in his favor was that he still looked human…ish, but if you looked into his eyes real close you could spot tiny arcs of electricity in them. He hoped they didn't get too much more pronounced, otherwise even sunglasses wouldn't keep people from noticing.

Even on the Hellmouth that'd be a little hard to miss.

As they left the dock they could see more than a hundred fighters, all of whom were gathering around a large stage that was done up in the old Oriental style that stuck with the theme of the tournament. Standing on it just a few feet back from the edge was an old Asian man with the cliché long, drooping mustache, pointy beard and clad in clothes consistent with a feudal lord or advisor. Following Johnny, they joined the crowd, figuring there was probably some sort of announcement to be made before the tournament got underway. From what he'd been told there'd be two weeks worth of elimination matches meant to weed out the weak, leaving only those skilled enough and strong enough to stand a chance against the reigning champion. It'd be a good chance for him and Johnny to get a look at the competition and see just how far up the bar was that the movie star would have to meet in order to play with the big dogs.

He saw a few more fighters that stood out from the rank and file, making him wonder if they were fighters on the side of Earthrealm or if they were fighting for Outworld. After all there was no rule that said that all of the fighters in the elimination round had to be from the former and it'd make sense for Outworld to seed a couple of their people in with the new arrivals. It'd make it easier to get rid of any potential threats without raising too many eyebrows since most people would just consider it a case of the strong disposing of the weak. Most of the fighters probably didn't have a clue about what was really going on beyond the absolute obvious, so they didn't know what was really riding on this tournament. Most would probably be like Johnny was up until the boat ride and dismiss any tales about other dimensions and the invasion of Earth as pure fiction. So unless the hidden Outworld fighters did something flashy that couldn't be explained, the majority of the people present would go with the flow.

Seeing the old man take a few steps forward, he focused on the stage and hoped the guy knew to keep things short and sweet.

Those were the best kind of speeches in his opinion.

"Fighters! First let me first welcome you to my island," the man said with arms outstretched. "I am Shang Tsung, Grandmaster of the Mortal Kombat tournament, and it is my hope that you will fight with skill and honor. However only the truly skilled have the right to compete in the final rounds of the tournament. In order to find out who they are the first hurdle you must overcome is the elimination round. Each of you has received an invitation scroll and on that scroll there is a unique symbol. Find it on this…"

The man turned to the right and a large tarp dropped down, revealing your typical tournament progression chart but much bigger to handle the sheer number of fighters present. At the bottom were symbols where the names of participants would normally be located.

"…and you will find your first opponent." Shang Tsung turned back to face the crowd. "The elimination round is expected to endure for two weeks. During those two weeks as well as the final rounds of the tournament there will be rules that must be abided by. First: once you have reached the final rounds, if a combatant challenges you it is illegal to refuse it. Second: only those fights with tournament personnel observing will be permitted. Any attempt to ambush or assassinate another combatant in secret will result in the perpetrators immediate expulsion. Third: you are permitted to use whatever tools, skills and abilities you possess in your matches but no more than you can carry under your own power. That means vehicles or weapons too heavy for a person to carry are forbidden. There is also a lesser known rule that almost never comes into play but in this tournament the criteria have been met."

 _Shit! He found out!_ he thought, realizing what was about to happen.

"If an invited participant is defeated by a noncombatant prior to their arrival on the island then they must take the participant's place… in order to ensure tournament stability," Shang Tsung said with smile veiled in maliciousness. "What some of you might not know is that during your boat ride here a participant from Ireland was defeated by the personal assistant of one Johnny Cage. Alexander Harris! Step forward!"

With reluctance he stepped forward until he was by himself away from the crowd and easily perceivable.

"As a result of your skill in defeating your opponent, you are now eligible to compete in the tournament." Shang Tsung said, his smile that was far from friendly.

Covertly looking around he could see that while some of the fighters were indifferent to the news, he could see a fair amount of them smiling at him like a prime piece of premium meat. No doubt they believed that if they wound up facing off against him they'd get an instant pass to the next round since he didn't look impressive enough to be a problem. Considering that he'd never fought professionally in his life and he had zero rep to intimidate them with, the odds were not good.

"And if I decline or forfeit my first match?" he asked out of pure curiosity.

Sure, he was all about saving the world but he wasn't into pain the way some kinky people were so avoiding it was definitely one of his top priorities. Besides which there were other ways he could help Johnny besides throwing down with whoever his next opponent turned out to be.

"Well, if you choose either of those options I would remind you that I am under no legal obligation to transport you back to Japan, or anywhere else for that matter. We are also in a dead zone so communication with anyone by radio or cell phone would be impossible," Shang Tsung replied, unveiling his leverage. "It is a very long swim back to the mainland. Also, if you or your friends intend to seize control of the boat that brought you here, keep in mind that certain… security measures… will prevent it from leaving without my permission. So you cannot leave without my consent AND you cannot call for help. Do you still wish not to compete?"

"So I'll just hang out here until the tournament is over and catch a ride back home then," he replied, trying to find a way out of participating. "You can't keep all of them on the island against their will."

"You assume that any of the combatants that arrived with you will be leaving at the end," Shang Tsung said with a malicious smile. "This is a tournament where you put your own life on the line and suffice it to say that the fighters representing Outworld will almost certainly choose to kill their opponents upon achieving victory. Given the momentum their group has achieved over the last five hundred years, I think even you must admit that a victory for Earthrealm at this point is a faint hope at best."

"I dunno. I've always been a big fan of the underdog," he said with his trademark grin. "I've seen enough proof that the underdog can win even with the odds against them to take a leap of faith."

"Then perhaps you can prove it to me yourself. Given your lack of experience and training, you could be considered the ultimate 'underdog' here," Shang Tsung said, trying to turn his own words against him. "I admit I am curious myself to see if it can be done. However if finding the answer is not incentive enough, perhaps I can sweeten the deal further. One of the promises I made to another participant was that I would give them a small fortune in gold and jewels if he won the tournament. While I have my doubts that you'll become the new champion, I'm prepared to give you the riches instead if you make it to the final rounds and defeat the man I promised them to. Interested?"

While he'd be lying if he said that gaining riches enough to turn himself into a rich person wasn't tempting, he got the distinct feeling that Shang Tsung was making the offer in the belief that he'd never have to pay up. A part of him would like nothing more than to make the soul stealer eat those words and be humiliated as he turned over the chest full of riches. However the soldier in him mentally smacked this part of him upside the head and reminded him that while working to surpass ones limits was admirable, a person wouldn't get very far if they tried to do more than they were capable of.

That was doubly the case when it came to combat.

"Well, think about it at the very least," Shang Tsung said as he turned half away from the front of the platform. "According to the chart your match will be the eleventh, so you won't have to fight until this evening or early tomorrow morning. You have until then to make your decision."

With that the current Grand Master of the Mortal Kombat tournament walked away, leaving the gathered participants to make their way over to the chart showing them who they'd be fighting first. For a time he just looked at the people walking away but it was when a hand came down on his shoulder he turned to see Johnny looking at him with the eyes of a friend.

"Whatever you decide, Xand, we'll back you all the way," Cage said with surprisingly little bravado or arrogance.

 _I got some serious thinking to do,_ he thought as their little party moved to see who would be fighting who. _Somehow I think I've already made my decision in my heart._

 _ **Tournament Competitor Barracks**_

 _ **Johnny Cage's POV**_

"Looks like your librarian friend was right about one thing at least," he said as he looked about the room he'd been guided to by a monk. "We did get a modest room."

It was a little too modest for his liking and definitely not done in the American style.

More like the Asian style, with tatami mat floors, tables that definitely required that you sit on the floor to eat at, futon beds to sleep in and lastly, in consideration for Jessie, a painted partition splitting the room in two. No matter where he looked, though, he couldn't see a single electrical outlet in the wall and the only potential sources of light were unlit candles arrayed about the room. It wasn't a BAD amount of lighting but no candle could match the light given off by an eighty watt light bulb hanging from the ceiling. Still, he didn't think complaining would do much good so he picked out a futon and began putting his stuff down at the bottom end of it.

"Could be worse. They could've had us camp outside under the stars with only a single lantern for light," Xander said as he chose the second futon on the right side of the partition. "Think of it as yet another way to prove you're not some spoiled Hollywood actor who refuses to accept anything that isn't five stars and obscenely expensive."

"Hey, I never said I couldn't sleep in a room like this," he said with mild defensiveness as he started to unpack. "I'm just not used to it, that's all. I can handle this."

The last time he could recall staying in a place even remotely similar was back when he was on the martial arts tournament circuit and some genius thought it'd be great to hold one out in the middle of nowhere in some abandoned Shinto shrine. Sure, the place had been restored by the people behind the tournament and outfitted with electronic options that could be packed up at a moments notice but it was still bare bones. He'd managed to get though it well enough but there had been one or two big name fighters who'd stormed out of the place because it hadn't been up to their standards. While he might've come a long way since then, he wasn't so far gone that he'd act like a complete asshole at the drop of a hat. He'd need something pretty damn insulting or offensive for him to bail on a reputable tournament and the room he was currently in didn't qualify.

"So who's your first opponent tomorrow?" Xander asked as he finished putting the clothes he'd brought along into a thankfully present dresser.

"Some ginger chick called Kasumi," he recalled having seen his first opponent looking at the same spot on the chart. "Dressed in some kind of blue and white dress with stockings of all things."

At least he wore something practical when he stepped in the ring: black pants with blue accents, blue shin pads and comfortable sneakers. A dress was something you wore to a party or a formal get together of some kind, not to a match involving professional fighters. The only thing the blue side tie dress had in the lady's favor was that it didn't look like it'd restrict her range of motion at all. It also hinted that her fighting style emphasized both high AND low kicks.

Then again maybe it was just meant to show off her tone legs and distract her opponents.

He'd definitely been distracted for a few seconds.

"Don't let her fashion sense make you underestimate her," Xander said with caution. "I know a girl who kicked ass in a prom dress. Just make sure her high kicks don't… distract you. Too much, anyway."

"Trust me, Xan! I've seen enough sexy bods that it'll take more than a nice set of stockinged legs to freeze up my mind," he said with his trademark cocky smile.

"What about you, Xander? Assuming you decide to fight who'd you be fighting first?" Jessie asked from the other side of the partition.

"According to the chart some girl from Korea named Yuri," Xander replied before lying back on his futon and relaxing. "Caught someone five foot five wearing a cloak looking at the same spot. Only caught a glimpse of her face but that was enough. Girl gave me a case of the heebie jeebies."

"Why's that?" he asked out of curiosity.

"Well for one thing she had this really freaky left eye that was definitely not some glass eye AND the look on her face made her look like a serial killer spotting the perfect victim," Xander replied, shivering in a way that might not be an act. "If it was an act then she deserves an Oscar for it."

"Hmmmm… maybe she'd be interested in a job after the tournament," he thought as he considered possible plot ideas. "A female martial arts serial killer with a mysterious left eye. Sounds like a character to one of my movies."

"And if she really IS a martial arts serial killer?" Jessie asked, pointing out a potential flaw. "Methinks being the one who introduced her to a set full of potential victims wouldn't do great things for your career."

"Mmmmm, guess you're right," he replied after a minute of consideration. "Still, see if you can get some video of her in action. If I can't get the real deal I'm sure the boys back in Hollywood can come up with a copy."

"And if Miss Serial Killer doesn't consider imitation the highest form of flattery?" Xander asked, no doubt causing everyone to come up with some unfavorable imagery.

"Then we just make sure studio security has a sharpshooter in the ceiling with a clip full of tranquilizer darts. Crazy lady goes beddy-buy and then off to the nearest asylum for the criminally insane," he replied, confident that a good sharpshooter could nail just about anyone given the chance.

"Assuming someone hasn't already tried that," Xander said, sounding like he was determined to play devil's advocate. "If someone has, she might be ready for it."

"Then I'll just kick her ass myself," he said, supremely confident that he could come out on top in any fight.

Both Jessie and Xander just rolled their eyes at his statement but he was used to that.

"Well, since there's no electricity there's no TV so who's up to playing a few rounds of poker before turning in for the night?" Xander asked, holding up a deck of playing cards.

"What're the stakes?" Jessie asked, sounding like she'd play under the right circumstances.

"We'll start with whatever money we have on us right now and after that whatever valuable stuff we brought with us," Xander replied off hand, sounding like he'd only partially thought about it.

"And after that?" he asked, wondering if there was a chance he could make things a little more interesting.

"Well, if someone doesn't have anything left to bet with then they're out of the game." Xander replied with a shrug of his shoulders as though that should've been obvious.

"How's about if someone doesn't have money or possessions they can use an article of clothing as a substitute?" he asked casually, in the hopes of hiding his true intentions.

"Shoulda known you'd try to turn this into a game of strip poker," Jessie said with a mix of annoyance and mild exasperation.

"I suppose that'd work but in the interests of fairness any one of us can bow out of the game voluntarily if we don't want to keep going," Xander said, throwing a major monkey wrench into his plans.

Fortunately adaptation and resourcefulness were two of his best qualities.

"Fine. It won't be as exciting but if you're both against it then that's that," he said, feigning annoyance and disappointment flawlessly.

He was an award winning actor, after all, so it was no surprise that they bought his routine hook, line and sinker.

Jessie and him had known each other for quite a while, time enough to learn where a few of her mental buttons were located. If he played his cards right, both figuratively as well as literally, he could manipulate Jessie into remaining in the game even if it meant being reduced to her undergarments.

It'd definitely make the game more interesting.

 _ **A Dirt Path on the Island**_

 _ **Xander's POV**_

"I can't BELIEVE you passed that up!" Johnny exclaimed for the umpteenth time as they walked to the elimination round platforms.

"You win some, you lose some," he said shaking his head at the memory of how last night's game had ended.

It'd started out well enough with all of them betting money and then whatever items in their suitcases they were willing to part with. It was only when he'd finished cleaning Jessie out using the moves he'd learned from Uncle Rory that things had gotten dicey. Just like he'd expected Jessie had chosen that moment to bow out of the game since she didn't have any more money or possessions she'd been willing to bet with. However also just like he'd expected Johnny hadn't been willing to pass up a chance to see one of his friends who was a girl in her bra and panties. Thus began the trading of words, with one side trying to manipulate the other into sticking around while the other tried to talk her way out of it. In the end Jessie seemed to fall for Johnny's provocation but then she did something the movie star apparently hadn't been expecting.

Instead of peeling off her shirt or tossing a sock into the pot, the cameraman used clothes from her suitcase to use as her betting items.

Naturally Johnny wasn't about to be discouraged by this and continued to play, no doubt believing that with his skills he'd be able to get Jessie to burn through her suitcase of clothes so that his original goal could become a reality. Indeed it'd certainly begun looking that way in the beginning as hand after hand went to Johnny but that was merely the bait for the trap. In truth Jessie had just been setting up Cage for a trap because, in the worst bluff routine he'd ever seen, the lady tried to make it look like she was betting everything she had left EXCEPT the clothes on her back on an unbeatable hand. Naturally Johnny had thought that he'd spotted blood in the water and had gone all in as well but then the curveball came when Jessie had thrown in a date where she'd dress up in whatever the winner wanted.

That had caused Cage's brain to jump in the gutter and agree to the terms, putting in the rest of what he had to bet in order to match Jessie's wager of a date.

When the hands were revealed things didn't end at all the way anyone anticipated.

Jessie did wind up having a better hand than Johnny, revealing to the movie star that the lady had some acting chops of her own.

However the person that had the winning hand had been him.

No one had been more surprised than him to find out that not only did he have money and clothes now but also a date with an attractive twenty-something camerawoman where he got to choose her outfit. Jessie, however, hadn't expected not to come up on top so, in a show of competitive spirit, had dared him to give her the chance to win it back. Now he had been a tad offended that a date with him was so stinky that a woman wanted to cancel the only way she could so he'd been determined to make her work for it. Pulling the big guns out of Uncle Rory's bag of tricks, he did everything he could to keep the date with Jessie firmly in his pocket. Before long the camerawoman had managed to win most of the money and all of her clothes but not the piece of paper representing the date of his design.

It was then that he'd unleashed his masterpiece when he said that he was tired and turning in for the night.

After all it'd been made clear at the beginning that any player could walk away from the game at any time if they wanted to.

Now he'd known that it could've backfired on him, Jessie could've submitted to the date and let him walk away, but her previous wins had made the lady thinking that momentum as well as Lady Luck was on her side. Combined with the competitive attitude she'd shown thus far and she'd done the one thing that she'd believed would keep him playing.

She peeled off her shirt revealing her bra-encased boobs for both him and Johnny to see and tossed the article of clothing into the pot. She'd then crossed her arms under her breasts in order to emphasize them as well as make her wager seem equal to the date ticket.

 _I gotta admit, she has a pretty good rack,_ he thought as the fighting platforms came into view.

Now if he hadn't suddenly suffered a case of little head syndrome he'd have let it end right there but, like most young guys when an opportunity like this came knocking, he'd chosen to push his luck. He'd hemmed and hahhed about whether or not everything Jessie'd wagered thus far was really equal to the date ticket and, like clockwork, Johnny had chimed in asking what designer label it was. This'd gone on for about a minute before out of sheer frustration and impatience Jessie had stood up, taken off the sweat pants she'd changed into before the first round and then thrown it into the pot. He'd just gawked at her for a moment but when she sat back down on the floor, demanding to know if that was enough to get the date ticket into the pot.

Now while Johnny'd kept egging the camerawoman on in the hopes she'd toss in her bra, he'd been taught better and immediately tossed the date ticket into the pot.

It'd been a tense couple of minutes as they tossed some cards away only to replace them by taking directly from the deck but, when the time came to call, Jessie'd come out with the better hand.

And with that the three of them went to bed but not before Jessie'd looked over her shoulder, sweats over her shoulder rather than on her body, and told him that if he'd pushed his luck just a little farther she'd have given him a little treat.

Then she'd given him this sexy smile and a WINK!

He'd been up for almost three hours with images in his head about what could've been and questions about whether or not the camerawoman had actually been serious.

 _Speaking of whom,_ he thought as he spotted the woman in question with her camera on her shoulder, filming one of the bouts.

She'd gotten up early, saying she wanted to film some context shots before shooting Johnny's first match.

"So how're the matches so far, Jessie?" Johnny asked, stopping to stand beside her.

"Not bad at all. The matches have definitely been hardcore," Jessie replied without stopping her filming. "Near as I can tell the fight only ends when someone submits, gets knocked out of the ring, knocked unconscious OR are unable to continue because of their wounds."

"Doesn't sound so bad," Johnny said, letting his eyes go from platform to platform.

"Yeah, well, it looks like Xander was right about the whole killing part," Jessie said, sounding less than happy about that part. "I've see three people kill three other people so far and two of them weren't very gentle about it. Almost lost my lunch with one of them."

As though timed by fate his eyes locked onto the closest fighting platform just in time to see the winner of the fight grab his defeated victim by the hair, yank back to expose the throat, plunge a nasty looking dagger into said throat and then savagely try to cut the head off. For a moment it looked like the man would fail in his efforts but then, with a single savage yank and an equally savage cry, the head came off, splattering blood everywhere. While it was not something he liked, he had to admit that there were times when humans were just as bad as any demon.

This was a perfect example of that fact.

"Yuck!" Johnny said in disgust at what he'd just witnessed. "Definitely not going to watch any more matches than I need to after that messy show."

"Me neither," he said, turning his gaze away from the bloody victor. "There's winning and then there's going overboard."

"Perhaps, young Alexander, but this tournament is meant to resemble a true battlefield as closely as possible," came a familiar and sinister voice from behind him.

Turning around, his eyes narrowed; standing a few feet away was none other than Shang Tsung with two masked guardsmen at his side.

"A bit unnecessary, isn't it?" he asked, not letting any trust enter his eyes. "The whole point of a tournament is to determine who's the best of the best. You don't have to kill your opponent to prove that."

"Perhaps, but some of the fighters that've been invited to compete would not have come had we forbidden lethal force from the tournament," Shang Tsung said as though the thought of keeping the murdering psychos out was a bad thing.

"Some would consider that a good thing," he pointed out even though he knew it wouldn't do any good.

"To each their own," Tsung said dismissively. "Have you reached a decision about participation in the tournament?"

"Yes. I'll compete," he said, deciding right then and there that it was necessary. "If only keep the body count down a bit."

"Excellent," Tsung said with an unmistakably sinister smile. "I am sure Miss Han will be quite pleased to hear this. She's been most impatient about getting her chance to fight and would have been most disappointed if I'd been forced to tell her she would have to wait until the second elimination round."

"So glad I could help," he said sarcastically towards the older man.

The sinister man just smiled, bowed and then left, leaving him to wonder just how above board the tournament really was. Johnny and Jessie had given him the cliff notes of what Raiden had told them about the tournament after he'd woken up, so if that was all true then it'd be in his best interests to expect the unexpected.

And keep an eye out for any dirty tricks used to fix fights since, the second any of the other fighters saw him as a threat, they'd probably try something.

 _GOD I hope I don't wind up regretting this!_ he thought as one of the people running the tournament began to advance towards them.

"Mister Cage," the monk said, bowing out of respect. "Your fight with fighter Kasumi is scheduled to begin shortly. Please follow me."

"Showtime, people," Johnny said, sounding like he thought he'd already won the fight and that what was about to happen was just a formality.

 _Here's hoping I'm not about to see a big fall,_ he thought as he and Jessie followed the movie star.

 _ **Johnny Cage's POV**_

 _Time to make a BIG first impression,_ he thought as he got up on the fighting platform.

To make people look at his muscles he began to go through a series of light stretches that focused people's gaze on specific muscle groups. For those that wouldn't be impressed it'd also give off the impression that he was supremely confident that he'd win the match. To put the exclamation point on the act he took off his sunglasses, tossing them in Xander's direction before bringing both arms up into a proper ready position.

Looking across at his opponent, he could tell that Kasumi was taking the fight entirely too seriously because not only was she not playing to the crowd, something she could easily do with her body, but she also was ignoring the studliness of one Johnny Cage. If there was one thing he could almost always count on whenever he showed up at a beach or did one of those fights for charity events it was that, once the shirt came off, the female screams of adoration began.

Yet for some reason this Kasumi chick wasn't so much as blushing at the sight of his finely chiseled body.

 _Well then I guess I'll just have to give her an up close and personal view,_ he thought as he waited for the referee to give the so signal for the fight.

"This match is best two out of three," the monk standing off to the side said, looking at him and then Kasumi. "Should each of you win a round and somehow both be eliminated in the third round, you will fight in a fourth round to decide the victor. Do each of you understand?"

"Yep," he replied, the procedure pretty much standard for any martial arts tournament.

"Hai," Kasumi replied in Japanese, making him wonder if she was from Japan or if it was just her language of choice.

"Then without further delay…" the monk said as he stepped off the platform, "ROUND ONE! FIGHT!"

Bouncing on his feet he decided to see just how good the girl really was because, even though she'd received an invite, there was no way that he was going to go all out if she'd get seriously hurt.

"C'mon, beautiful!" he said with his best lady killer smile. "Show me what ya got!"

"Iku yo!" Kasumi declared before charging him.

For a moment he was taken aback by her speed since she crossed the distance in half the time he'd been expecting and it almost cost him. Much like he'd anticipated, her opening move was a flurry of kicks, with a few punches and elbow blows thrown in for good measure. Instinct allowed him to dodge or evade most of them but one or two succeeded in tagging him, if only partially. What he felt improved his odds because, while he'd definitely rate Kasumi's punches and kicks above some of the more violent women he'd met, they still didn't have a lot of power to them. He could see them having a cumulative effect if she tagged him enough times but he wasn't about to let that happen.

"Not bad. You've got some chops, Kasumi-chan!" he said as he quickly got out of her range. "Now let me show you MY moves!"

With that he began to lay into her, using one of his more successful kick-punch combos, with only a third of the blows landing where he wanted while the rest were either evaded or blocked. This proved to him that her defense wasn't any shabbier than her offensive and that she was used to taking hits from guys as strong as he was. That'd certainly make the fight last longer and that suited him just fine since short of a fight would make the victory less than sweet.

Upping his game to the next level he began to focus on battering her defenses so he could deliver his final combo without resistance but it didn't go quite as smoothly as he'd expected it would. Just as he fired off one of his stronger kicks the world went wonky when Kasumi vanished in a light shower of flower petals, making him hit nothing but air. However, before he could do more than turn his head to figure out where she'd gone, she reappeared, delivering a mid-air roundhouse kick to his jaw, knocking him to the ground for the first time in the match. Part with instinct and part with conscious thought he rolled backwards with the fall so as to bring himself into a crouch, facing Kasumi with his defenses back up.

"What the hell was THAT?!" he asked, wondering how the hell she'd pulled her disappearing act.

Was there some sort of fast acting drug on the flower petals? Was she way quicker than he'd thought she was?

"Ninjutsu," Kasumi replied, a smirk of confidence on her face.

"Oh, it's Game On, girly!" he said, moving back on the attack.

With an excited smile on his face he began to break out the big guns in his arsenal of combos and techniques, determined to defeat this female ninja, vanishing act or no vanishing act.

However, just as he was upping his game, it quickly became evident that Kasumi was getting a handle on his moves as well. With expert evasion and timing the ninja girl was taking full advantage of one of Karate's weaknesses: linear movement. It was one of the bad things about the style in that its moves tended to make the user focus on going in straight line so, when facing opponents capable of doing more than that, things got dicey.

He did his best to wait until he got a solid lock on her before attacking but the way she was dancing around him kept him from being able to complete his combination attacks. In an effort to stop this he began to carefully choose his attacks to maneuver her to the edge of the platform, with the intent of hemming her in so she'd have no choice but to tackle him head on. Once that happened he'd really lay it into her before opening up a straight line to her jaw so that he could KO her and he wouldn't have to mess up her looks any more than he already had. Halfway through his efforts he could tell she'd caught onto what he was trying to do but he'd anticipated this and easily adapted to her efforts to escape his strategy.

He waited until she had only a few feet in any direction to work with before going in for the kill, hammering her defenses while using his own legs to block her kicks, intent on claiming the first round for himself. It took a few minutes and exchanges but eventually a path to her pretty little jaw opened up so he went for it…

…only for Kasumi to leap up, do a handstand on his shoulders and then try to bring both knees right into his face.

Only split second reflexes allowed him to bring his hands up in time to grab hold of her knees and, once he had them, he used the second or two of vulnerability of surprise it bought him to throw her from the ring. She landed with an 'oof' on the ground but that didn't matter to him.

"Round one goes to Johnny Cage," the monk said, pointing to him and bowing.

To her credit the Kasumi girl was quick to get back to her feet and onto the platform, showing her determination to make the next one hers.

 _Gotta respect a lady like that,_ he thought with a nod of respect.

Didn't mean he wouldn't take the next round and move on in the tournament, though.

Better luck next time, Kasumi.

 _ **Xander's POV**_

"Anata wa watashi o taosu koto wa arimasen!" Kasumi declared as she once again took up an offensive fighting posture.

"Um… what did she say…?" Johnny asked, looking half over his shoulder at him and Jessie.

"My Japanese is pretty much limited to whatever subbed anime I could get my hands on but I'm pretty sure she's saying you'll never defeat her," he replied after trying to match the words right in his head. "I think."

"Determination! I like it!" Johnny said, sounding like he approved of the refusal to give up.

He had to admit that he liked it too.

While he had nothing against softness or femininity, if he had to pick the qualities his preferred lady would have, mental strength and determination would definitely be prioritized. He'd definitely steer away from the ladies that fainted at the first sign of trouble or lacked the fortitude to make it through a difficult situation with a minimum of bitching. So if Kasumi had the backbone to keep fighting for another round solidly then he had to give her the proper amount of credit.

Still, he'd watched the fight between her and Johnny closely so he had a pretty good feeling about how it was all going to end.

In his opinion while Kasumi was no amateur and could easily be considered a martial arts school graduate, her blows just didn't have the stopping power needed to prevail against Johnny. Her strategy was essentially death by a hundred bee stings but that sort of tactic took time before it'd take full effect. He had his doubts that Johnny would let her succeed and he had the solid enough defense to dull the edge of any offensive Kasumi tried to unleash. If she had knowledge of pressure points then maybe she could've jabbed Johnny in the right spots to make an arm go limp. Once that was done her bug bite strategy had a much better chance of succeeding.

"ROUND TWO! FIGHT!" the monk referee said before removing himself from the stage.

This time around instead of charging at Johnny the ninja girl chose to stay where she was and let the fight come to her. A bit obvious when it came to tactics and it risked giving control of the fight over to Johnny but it could also allow her better counterattack possibilities. Could that be what she was aiming for? Letting Cage create opportunities for her and countering his moves with precise timing? Maybe. From what he'd seen so far the girl definitely had both the speed as well as the skill for it but it'd all depend on how quickly his friend caught onto the tactic. If Johnny figured it out swiftly enough, he could resort to power moves that any smart fighter knew were better to evade big time than block.

 _Then again big power moves are usually pretty easy to see coming,_ he thought as Johnny went on the offensive. _Short, compact hits are usually a lot harder to deal with._

Once the two of them got within striking distance of one another it was Johnny who made the first move, looking like he was trying for a repeat of the previous strategy: back Kasumi into a corner then pummel her. However this time the ninja girl was ready for them, either parrying them off to the side or evading them altogether. It was just when he thought he was bearing witness to the beginning of a pattern that she did something he hadn't been expecting. Right when Johnny executed a punch Kasumi managed to sidestep it, grab the arm and then flip the movie star onto his back before twisting the arm so that it would lock. For a moment Johnny tried to power his way out of it but when that proved unsuccessful he executed a quick kick that tagged Kasumi in the shoulder, causing her grip to loosen. After that it was simple enough to yank the formerly captured arm free and for Johnny to get back to his feet.

"Well, you're just full of surprises, aren't you?" Johnny asked rhetorically as the two of them began to circle one another, looking for an opening.

To this Kasumi just came to a stop and then gave the universal 'come get some' gesture, looking like she could smell victory in the air.

"Well I've never been one to turn down an invite from a pretty lady," Johnny said before jumping once more into the breach.

The next exchange of blows was truly something to see since by now both fighters had a pretty good grasp of how the other fought. Johnny was power but Kasumi was speed and agility, with both proving competent in how to use these qualities to their fullest advantage. In the end though the ninja girl's light blows proved to be her undoing because, while more than a few succeeded in hitting Johnny, they just didn't do enough damage. Cage's, on the other hand, would definitely be leaving a few bruises and some of them were affecting Kasumi's range of movement. Before too much longer the outcome of the fight became clear and it was finished with a rising uppercut that sent Johnny's opponent to the ground.

For a few seconds it looked like Kasumi might succeed in getting back to her feet and continue the fight but, when she tried to rise from one knee, a wave of disorientation looked to hit her. She tried once more but only caused a repeat of what had happened before, leaving the monk referee no other choice.

"Contestant Kasumi is unable to continue. The second round and the match go to JOHNNY CAGE!" the monk said, pointing to the movie star who predictably struck a victory pose.

"Oh yeah! You just got CAGED baby!" Johnny crowed even as Kasumi went through the usual emotions that came with defeat.

Disappointment, regret, anger and a bit of sadness all passed over her face before she regained her fighter composure. With great difficulty she forced herself to her feet and, in a manner that implied chance had a say in things, she executed a respectful bow towards Johnny before unsteadily walking towards the stairs that'd let her get off the platform. For a moment he thought Johnny would return the bow but the man just kept on grandstanding, barely even noticing that Kasumi was making her exit.

 _Guess it was too much to ask that he show some humility and class,_ he thought with a slight shake of disappointment. _Guess it's up to me to do some damage control._

With that he began to make his way over to the other side of the platform, intent on downplaying Johnny's arrogance to the young lady while also reassuring her that she'd fought well. It was true that she'd never compete in another Mortal Kombat tournament one way or another, but there were probably other prestigious ones she could enter.

Never giving up was the key to any fight.

 _ **Kasumi's POV**_

She'd failed.

Failed in what was considered by the clan elders to be one of the most important tasks they had ever known.

It had been only a month ago that the clan seers had experienced their most potent vision ever, foretelling the coming of one whom they had sworn an oath concerning. It was a binding oath to one who had saved her clan from a dire fate in the past, asking for only one thing in return for his aid. Thus for three thousand years they had waited for the signs that they would be able to make good on their oath. The seer's vision had told her father that the one that could allow them to fulfill their oath would be at the Mortal Kombat tournament. It was then that Fate intervened as not a week passed before a representative of the tournament administration arrived at the village gates to invite a warrior from their clan to participate. Her elder brother had been suspicious of the timing but her father chose to take advantage of their good fortune and accepted the invite.

Her brother Hayate had, of course, insisted that he be the one to participate in the tournament but their father had pointed out that the oath specifically stated that it was the firstborn daughter of their clan who would be the key to fulfilling the oath. Naturally her brother had stated that the means they'd been given to verify the identity of the One could be used by anyone. He insisted that he could go to the tournament, identify the One and then bring him back to the village in order to bring about the fulfillment of the oath. It was her mother, however, that point out that the means of identification was keyed to the women of the head family's bloodline, NOT the men.

It took some convincing on her part but eventually Hayate withdrew his wish to participate in the tournament and declared with confidence that she would do the clan proud.

 _Proud? I have shamed the clan and cost us the best chance to see our oldest oath fulfilled,_ she thought as she stepped slowly towards the stairs of the platform. _There will be only one way to salvage both my honor as well as the honor of my clan._

Pausing to gather once more her strength and focus, she took a moment to let her eyes pass over the other combatants currently fighting as well as those who had yet to do battle. Was one of them the One? Could she still accomplish her mission? That would depend on whether or not defeated combatants were permitted to remain on the island and watch the remaining matches. If it was a rule that the defeated had to leave immediately, then all hope for her future as well as the future of her clan was lost.

 _Perhaps if I feign that I am too ill to travel they will let me stay,_ she thought as her mind worked to resolve her present problem. _It likely won't work for long but with a little bit of luck it won't need to._

With a course of action chosen she decided to make her first play at pretending to be more injured than she really was. With as much authenticity as she could manage she pretended to come close to feinting as she took the first step down the stairs, letting her body fall while covertly making sure she'd land right. She had no interest in making feigned injuries real, especially if there was a chance that they might reduce her ability to continue her search for the One. Her eyes half closed, she prepared herself to hit the ground hard but instead someone caught her before she fell more than halfway.

Opening her eyes more to see who it was that had caught her, she was surprised to see it was a member of her opponent's party. Why was he here? Why had he caught her?

"Hey! You okay?" the dark haired American asked as he helped her to stand. "I didn't think Johnny'd hit you that hard. Do you need a doctor?"

She was about to add some verbal credibility to her performance when light rose up from below, attracting her attention instantly.

The pendant!

The pendant that had been given to identify the One!

It was glowing!

This could only mean one thing and yet she still had trouble bringing herself to believe it.

She had found HIM!

"I said do you need a doctor?" the One asked, sounding determined to get a response.

"…don't think… need to lie down…" she replied, half recovering from shock and half using what little English she knew.

"Well, I don't see a bed anywhere nearby so a bench'll have to do," The One said after looking about the area.

Gently he guided her over to a nearby bench and she did her best not to let the significance of what was going on distract her too much. She was not entirely faking her unsteadiness and she did not wish to make an unfavorable impression on someone so important to the future of her and of the clan. It took a while but eventually they reached the bench and with kindness he eased her down onto it before standing back up straight.

"There. It's not comfortable in the least but it should do for now," The One said with a satisfied smile on his face. "With a little luck all you need is an hour or so of rest before you're strong enough to walk about on your own. If not I'll be back after my match to help you back to your room. Assuming, of course, I'm in any condition to walk myself."

For a moment she thought that there might be a genuine threat to her mission if the One was seriously injured or slain during his match. She'd seen other fighters brutally murdered by their foes after losing and she could not permit that to happen.

"I will wait," she said, bowing her head respectfully.

"Good," he said with a smile that made her heart flutter a bit.

With that the One who would bring about the fulfillment of her clan's oath strode away, presumably to see to his own battles. However it was only as she lost sight of him that she remembered that she'd forgot to ask one very important question.

SHE FORGOT TO ASK HIM HIS NAME!

 _ **Xander's POV**_

"So… she give you her telephone number?" Johnny asked with plenty of implied meaning.

"No girl worth dating is THAT fast, Cage," Jessie said with reprimand, her camera still on her shoulder.

"Really? A lot of girls gave me their phone numbers after a night of clubbing," Johnny said in his defense, sounding like he believed the opposite.

"And how many of those phone numbers actually worked?" Jessie asked, sounding like she was leading someone dim to the blatantly obvious. "Hell, did you actually manage to get past FIVE dates with any of them?"

At first it looked like Johnny had a reply ready to go but then his brain stalled as he had to think for a moment, and then the moment turned into a few minutes.

"I rest my case," Jessie declared triumphantly, a victorious smirk on her face.

He had to chuckle a bit at this since it didn't exactly put a ladies man like Cage in the best light but a light glare from Johnny made him stop. Inside he might still be chuckling but on the outside he kept his face neutral since he had no desire to cause friction between himself and his boss.

This got rid of the glare well enough, allowing the normal cocky smile to resurface.

"So?" Johnny asked, clearly still interested in any potential relationship developments.

"Nope. Didn't even ask," he replied with a shake of his head.

"What!? A true blue hottie like that and you didn't make a move on her?" Cage asked, sounding shocked beyond words. "Haven't you been paying attention? We went out to enough clubs for you to see how it's done."

"Oh, I got plenty of tips on how to act like a cocky jerk and charm the ladies into a puddle of goo," he said with a nod of agreement. "I also learned that you weren't interested in anything but a one night stand with any of the ladies you talked to. Me? I want to actually get a girlfriend, go steady with her and hopefully get married."

"The old 'picket fence' dream, huh?" Johnny asked rhetorically, with only mild disappointment. "I guess it's okay in a quaint sort of way. Maybe I'll settle down too one day, but only after I've lived life up to the fullest."

"Any woman that actually says 'I do' to someone like you, Cage, will either be saint or a fool," Jessie said with mock seriousness in her voice.

 _Or she could just genuinely love him,_ he thought as he noticed one of the monks approaching the group. _I know it's a long shot but it's still a possibility._

After all, if Buffy could fall for Angel and he could manage to date Cordelia for a while, then it was proof positive that nothing was impossible where emotions concerned. Still, he'd probably have to see Cage and a woman get serious before he'd actually believe it.

"Mister Harris. It is time for your first fight," the monk said before gesturing that he should be followed. "This way."

"Well, looks like it's my turn to step into the spotlight," he said, not entirely sure how things would turn out. "Wish me luck."

"Just remember the moves I taught you and you'll do fine against psycho bitch," Johnny said, giving him a thumbs up.

"Don't get cocky. I know from firsthand experience how hard it can be the first time you step into the big leagues," Jessie said, adding in her own two cents. "The best way to get through it is to do your best but never forget that everyone else there'll have something you don't. Experience."

"Well let's hope that experience breeds a little cockiness of its own," he said as he began to follow the monk.

"We'll catch up with you later. I wanna scope out my next opponent a bit a first," Cage said as he began to walk in a different direction.

"Don't take too long or you'll miss the show," he said before he got too far away.

Following the monk, he tried to think up a strategy that'd work on someone he knew only one thing about and nothing else. If Juri Han did have an unstable mind then at first glance the right move would be to attempt to aggravate that instability since it could lead to an increase in mistakes. If that happened he would stand a better chance of winning since sloppiness would arise increasing the odds of him landing blows. The question would be how quickly Juri would be able to get herself back under control. If it took her a while to reel herself in once she flew off the handle, winning would be that much easier but if she had enough discipline to clamp down on her urges quickly, his opportunity window would be small. He'd have to make sure that he could inflict the maximum amount of damage with as few hits as possible in that case and that'd likely require getting in close.

Not an easy thing to do, especially if Yuri's fighting style was the sort that excelled in keeping people at a distance.

It didn't take long for him to arrive at the platform and, much as he'd expected, Juri was standing on it, her hooded cloak still obscuring her body as well as most of her face. He could tell the precise moment she spotted him because a creepy smile spread across her face but he didn't let it unnerve him any. Glancing down at his clothes, he found himself wishing he'd come in something a little more fight appropriate but the truth of the matter was that he hadn't made a decision as to whether or not he'd be competing until Shang Tsung spoke. A white shirt, jeans and his favorite pair of army issue boots didn't exactly send a message but it was too late to back out now.

Once he was atop the platform he waited for the monk to step forward to get things started. Juri didn't wait quite as long because a moment later she reached up to a clasp in the neck of her hooded cloak and released it. Dropping to the ground, the cloak revealed a young woman of Asian descent clad in a purple cloth chest thing that reminded him of a backless bustier, baggy white pants and long, fingerless gloves. With hair done up in a two horned style on the top of her head, she definitely looked like the martial artist from hell.

"Hmmmm… you look like you're in good shape," Juri said, executing a few kicks before settling into a posture that left her right leg up and ready to fly.

 _Another kick centered fighting style,_ he thought as he mentally adjusted how to handle the young woman. _Probably means that if I can duck under or evade as I advance, then she'll be left wide open for a hit. I doubt it'll be that easy but having a plan is better than no plan._

"This will be a two our of three round match. Whoever wins two rounds will be declared the winner. Should each of you win a round and the third round end in a double knockout there will be a fourth round to decide the winner," the monk said, looking at both of them in turn. "Do you understand?"

"Ooohhh! Now you've given me something to aim for!" Juri exclaimed, sounding like someone had told her she could get a bonus even better than first place if she played her cards right.

 _Great! A sadist,_ he thought with a roll of his eyes even as he nodded to the monk referee that he was ready. _Explains why she's hoping drag things out for as long as possible. Maximum kicks require maximum time._

"Then let the first round begin! FIGHT!" the monk said as he stepped backwards down the platform stairs.

As he predicted Juri was the first to go on the offensive with a whirlwind of kicks that had him kicking his proverbial engine up two gears in order to keep from getting hit. Once he got her rhythm, though, he waited for the best chance before diving in, one arm ready to block any surprises while the other set to slam a punch into her gut. His foresight proved to be good; a second later she hopped off the foot that'd been planted on the ground to bring it around, no doubt kick him in the side of the head. Bringing an arm up to block the blow he continued with his punch, hoping that the girl's own move would add to damage it'd cause her. However just as it would've made contact a hand seemed to reach out of nowhere catching his fist, stopping it's movement dead.

"If you don't take this seriously, I'll have to kill you," Juri said with a smile on her face even as she used the leg from her initial attack to deliver an axe kick to his shoulder. "And that would ruin my fun way too quickly."

The blow definitely had some power in it and if it wasn't for the fact that he was somewhat used to taking hits from enemies several times as strong as a normal human he'd have been floored. As it was he'd barely managed to yank his punching arm free of Yuri's grip in time to put a little distance between the two of them. While keeping himself ready for a follow up assault, he tested the movement of the shoulder that'd been hit to see how much damage the kick had done. He winced slightly since there was some definite pain involved in using those muscles but in his estimation not enough to remove their ability to contribute to the fight. He'd just have to soldier on through whatever pain was caused.

"Ooohh good! Looks like you have a high pain threshold," Juri said, sounding quite happy at this revelation. "Do you have the stamina match?"

"Why don't we find out?" he asked with an aggressive lopsided grin.

"Oh goody!" Yuri said with malicious glee.

As he weathered her next assault he reevaluated his strategy since it was now clear that the girl was aware of the weakness of her style and had developed a solid defense against it. Was it invulnerable? No. He refused to believe that there was such a thing as an unbreakable defense. All you needed to do was analyze your foe enough and come up with a good enough plan. If her kicks were so deadly then all he needed to do was remove those legs from the equation since it only made sense that those who placed emphasis on their legs let arm training slip to varying degrees. If that was the case with Yuri then if he could pin her legs or remove them from the equation, she could wail on him with her fists as much as she wanted and it wouldn't be nearly as effective.

With that in mind he waited for the right opportunity, one where both legs would be close enough to grab and lock down without too much trouble. It wasn't easy since the purple clad girl always seemed to keep one foot out of reach on purpose and that meant that if he snagged one leg he'd probably have to take a hit from the other in order to grab it. That meant forcing himself to endure the pain from the hit and willing his occupied arm to remain locked rather than loosen up enough for the girl to pull free.

He waited, evaded or blocked what blows he could, for the right opportunity to present itself to grab a leg since, if he screwed up, he'd be tipping his hand to the girl. Minutes passed and he was wondering if his arms and reflexes would hold out long enough to do what he wanted but it was when he saw signs that Yuri planned on a move with a lot of momentum that he acted. Timing his evasion perfectly he took half the power behind the kick away, leaving it possible for him to grab it without much trouble.

"You want my leg?" Yuri asked with amusement in her voice. "Then how about TWO!"

As he'd predicted she brought her other leg to bear, looking to nail him in the head, so he braced himself for the impact but it almost wasn't enough. With more power than he'd been expecting from someone of her build the leg hit rang his mental bell. As much as he didn't want to, though, he had to thank Tony and the infernal population of Sunnydale for toughening him up physically. Thus he was able to reach with his free arm to grab the leg that'd hit his head before it could be brought back down to the ground. Fortunately she wasn't all that much heavier than Willow, so he had no trouble holding her off the ground but now that he had her there was one question that needed answering.

What did he do with Yuri now that he had her?

"Well, I must say I'm flattered. It's not everyday that a man sweeps me off my feet," Yuri said with mock glee, "but do you have what it takes to carry me across the threshold?"

For a moment he wondered what she meant because, while she wasn't as light as feather, neither was she heavy enough that he'd have any trouble keeping her off the ground for a few hours. The answer came soon enough when she began to rain punches as well as elbows onto his head in painful ways. Considering the fact that opening his eyes could cause him to lose them, he kept them shut but that didn't exactly solve his problem since he was still getting pummeled in the head. Since letting her go would put him right back where he started, he decided to go with the first thing that came to mind while hoping he didn't screw things up.

Eight steps to the right.

Five steps forward.

A little more and…

 _NOW!_ He heaved Yuri off of him with the intent of tossing her outside of the ring.

As he felt Yuri's weight leave his arms, he basked in the feeling that his last minute idea worked…

…and then she managed to grab ahold of him and drag him along for the ride.

The one comfort he had was that Yuri had miscalculated as well since she'd no doubt intended to pull him to the platform floor, probably to put him into an arm lock. However he'd taken them a little too close to the edge of the platform for that to work out, so instead they wound up taking a longer than expected fall, ending with him being cushioned by a purple and white clad Yuri mattress.

"Geez, Xander! I told you to take the initiative with the ladies but even I think you're going a little fast," came a familiar voice, causing both him and his opponent to look to the source.

Standing not more than a few feet away was his buddy Johnny, with Jessie standing next to him, recording everything with camera in hand.

"Edit that out or there WILL be consequences," he said to Jessie, not wanting either Willow or Buffy to see this on TV or anywhere else.

They gave him enough grief about his luck with women as it was.

 _ **Johhny Cage's POV**_

"Well, at least I'm getting some golden ideas for costumes to use in my next movie," he said, watching Xander get back up onto the platform with his opponent. "She's a perfect fit for the bodyguard-sociopath role. Just gotta find the right look for the Yakuza crime boss and the script'll practically write itself."

"That explains a lot about Hollywood if that's how it's done," Jessie said as she centered the camera on the two combatants.

He chuckled a bit at that because there'd definitely been a few times that he'd thought the same thing after reading the latest script he'd been sent from the studio. Max might do a good job at screening out the bad jobs but even he'd gotten snookered every once in a while, resulting in some rather terrible reading. Naturally he'd called up the studio responsible and told them precisely what he thought about the trash they'd sent him and advising them to fire the team of monkeys that wrote it. After the fifth bad one, though, Max volunteered to give whatever the studios sent a once over himself before passing it along.

Turning his thoughts back to the fight about to resume, he recollected what he'd seen as he and Jessie had approached minutes before. The second he'd seen that Xander was still on his feet had been enough to make him feel a little proud of his 'kid brother' since most beginners who entered professional tournaments tended to lose their first and second rounds pretty quickly. Mostly it was due to a lack of experience on the part of the beginner, both as a martial artist and as a person. It usually took three or four tournaments before the newbies gained enough experience to stand a chance of progressing past the beginning rounds. From what he could tell about the last bit of the first round that he'd seen, Xander was holding up better than he'd thought the kid would and had managed a double ring out rather than a loss.

Not as good as a victory but a good first attempt by an amateur.

"Round Two! FIGHT!" the monk said, signaling the resuming of the fight.

It was a bit of a surprise at this point that, instead of charging in strong like he'd been expecting based on the way she fought, the Juri girl just stood there in a relaxed fighting stance. Odd but he had heard of a few fighters who could go from relaxed to ass kicking in the blink of an eye, so perhaps the spider girl meant to lure Xander in and then pummel him. Looking to his personal assistant, he could tell that Xan had figured this to be a possibility and was keeping his distance. While it was true that turning this into a contest of patience could prove advantageous, it could also blow up on you depending on the circumstances. For one thing, keeping your distance allowed you to recover from the damage and exertion from the previous round but that went for your opponent as well. Plus, if the round was on a time limit, then victory might be judged based on the number of successful hits, in which case Xander would come up on the losing side.

Then, of course, there were the spectators, fighters who'd already finished their matches for the day, who were as usual a rowdy crowd that wanted to see a fight not two people looking at statues.

"Sounds like the natives are getting restless, my little Ken doll," Juri said in an amused tone. "You want to kick things off or should I?"

"I've always been told to act like a gentleman in the presence of a lady so I'll let you kick things off," Xander replied with a look on his face that was half serious and half playful.

However there was also a look in his friend's eyes that implied that he was getting a little excited.

"Ahhh, he's got the mojo flowing now!" he said with a happy smile.

"The mojo?" Jessie asked without looking his way.

"A feeling you get when you're fighting and you start getting seriously pumped. You don't care about winning or losing. Just the fight," he replied even as Yuri took on a more serious fighter's pose. "For some guys it's a better feeling than sex."

"You ever feel it?" she asked out of curiosity.

"A few times but it never lasted," he replied honestly for once. "You only feel the mojo when you're fighting someone who can push you to your limits. If it never gets better than a good workout, you won't get so much as a fizzle of the good stuff."

Right now, though, Xander definitely felt it and it made him even more interested in how this next round would go because it was also a fact that when you felt the mojo, your fighting prowess became that much better. You were so jazzed that any doubts or hesitation pulled an instant fade and close calls just pumped you up all the more.

Looking to Juri, he could tell that the lady was also feeling the same kind of mojo but the look on her face told him she was definitely one of those sadist types. He'd seen a few of them during his time on the tournament circuit, as well as at bars, people who were after the hurt more than the win, and he was thoroughly disgusted by them. He might be okay with putting extra edge into his moves in order to teach someone he hated a lesson but he didn't let it drag out longer than necessary, and if his opponent was incapable of defending himself he let it go at that. Juri, on the other hand, looked like she'd keep the fight going for as long as she remained amused and might even think up new ways to spice things up if possible.

 _Better finish her quick, Xan,_ he thought as the two fighters met in the ring and began to exchange blows. _Types like her can get pretty nasty when they get 'bored'._

Watching the exchange of blows, he could see that Xander was following his advice from the times they sparred back at the mansion but Juri had definitely fought before. Not just in the tournament circuit but probably also in back alley brawler fights, not to mention underground gladiatorial arenas. She knew how to use the fighting area to her advantage and manipulate her opponent into position to deliver devastating combination attacks. At the moment Xander was on the defensive, either evading or blocking whatever attacks came his way with a respectable amount of success, but he could tell that Juri wasn't fighting all out. She was toying with her prey, probing his defenses and inflicting pain when she felt like it. If she cranked it up a gear or two Xander would almost certainly lose, if not immediately then by the time the clock for the round hit zero.

"You know, this has been fun but if you're not going to bring anything new to the table, I'm just going to end things right now," Juri said, sounding like she was seriously disappointed in Xander.

Shit.

He'd thought that the girl would try to make things last at least to the third round before getting bored but it looked like she wasn't in a patient mood today.

Tensing up a bit, he waited to see what the lady meant by 'ending things right now' but predicted it'd just be a big jump in skill as well as physical performance. Up until now she'd probably been fighting at a third or a half of her true maximum fighting prowess. If she kicked it up another level, Xander would likely be facing something closer to two thirds or three quarters of Juri's full power. Not a good thing considering the fact that his friend had been only just able to match her up until now.

"Xander! It's all or nothing time!" he yelled, hoping to spur on his assistant into immediate action.

Fortunately his part time student and friend heeded the advice, charging forward, looking like he was ready to give it his all.

This reassured him… right up until he saw a purple light begin to emerge from Juri's left eye.

It started as a pinprick, no bigger than one of those laser pointers some people used, but it grew with every second that passed until the entire eye socket was filled with the light. For a moment he wondered what the significance of it was and it was a moment later that he got his answer when Juri shot forward with speed that had to be seen firsthand. Before Xander even made it to the halfway point of the former distance that existed between him and Juri the girl was already invading his personal space. At this point he was expecting a series of punches since the distance between the two fighters was too small for any decent kicks to be thrown.

He was wrong.

With a move that was like a backwards flip kick Juri slammed her right foot into Xander's jaw that causing his assistant's head to rock backwards like someone had been yanking on it. For a moment he thought Xan might be able to turn things around if he recovered quickly enough to go on the offensive before his foe could get into a stable fighting stance but that proved to be out of the question. With speed equal to how she'd closed the distance, Juri got a foot into the ground and immediately went into another backwards flip kick, connecting solidly once again. With so little space between blows Xander was actually propelled a few inches off the ground but it was when an impossible third flip kick was executed that some serious distance was created.

Juri paused as Xan hit the ground, eyes still open but looking like his grip on consciousness had been cut in half.

"You're still awake? Guess it's safe to say you don't have a glass jaw," Juri said with mocking praise as she looked down both metaphorically as well as literally on her opponent. "Hope you still have it in you for another round, boy toy, 'cause after the referee declares this round mine I'll need to kick your ass one more time before they'll give me someone new to play with."

Looking at Xander, he hoped that Xander knew enough to stay down and take the time to recover, but even if his friend did he had to wonder if it'd do any good in the third round of the fight. If the purple light was something like a performance enhancing drug then there was no telling when its effects would wear off. It could happen within the next ten minutes or it could take an hour before Juri's body finished burning through it. Xander might have potential but, even with the element of surprise, the gap he'd just seen was too much to overcome.

Better to forfeit the fight and spend the rest of the tournament watching him rise up to claim the championship than be stuck in whatever stood in for a hospital on this island on pain meds.

Xander didn't agree with this, though, and he watched as the young man pushed himself off the ground, a bit of instability in his movements. Bit by bit his assistant tried to get back to his feet but after the third failed attempt the referee raised his arm to end the second round.

"Second round goes to Juri," the referee monk said, pointing his formerly raised arm towards the woman. "Contestant Xander? Are you still able to fight?"

It took two or three more tries but eventually Xan managed to get back to his feet and, with what had to be a marshaling of will, forced the aftershocks of Juri's attack to vanish. Bringing both fists up into a fighting position, Xander showed he had more guts than brains because, even if the readiness was faked, it showed that the high school graduate didn't like backing away from a fight. The referee monk took a moment to examine both his assistant's stance as well as the level of clarity in his eyes before being satisfied.

"Very well. We will proceed to the third round," the monk referee declared before stepping away from Xander. "Should contestant Juri win she will advance to the next round of the tournament. However should contestant Xander emerge victorious we will proceed to the fourth round to determine a victor. Understand? Good. ROUND THREE! FIGHT!"

As predicted Juri went on the offensive once more with the same speed as before but, as he'd predicted, Xander was expecting it this time around and so did a marginally better job than before in both blocking as well as evading. However 'better' did not mean that he could still turn the fight around. At best it meant that his defeat would be that much slower in coming. He couldn't help but growl internally a bit at how things were proceeding because, while he hadn't expected Xander to make it to the final rounds of the tournament, he had predicted that his assistant would get close. He'd wholeheartedly believed that Xan's first three or four opponents would be the equivalent of wrestling jobbers, men who never went anywhere and were often just there to make the stars look good, but Juri was definitely not a jobber.

He'd have preferred that Xan's first hurdle in the world of fighting be a little easier to get over.

The fight progressed but, even as his friend made efforts to go on the offensive, Juri looked more and more like a cat toying with a mouse. She'd make a game of just how close she could let Xander's attacks get before sliding out of the way with unnatural speed and agility. It was with a flying kick that miraculously managed to be combined with two other mid-air blows before either combatant touched the ground again. This time, though, Xan managed to go with the flow enough roll backwards upon landing, coming to a stop in a crouching position.

"Aw! You're fighting better this time!" Juri exclaimed with mock appreciation. "Don't want to look like a complete loser in front of the camera do ya? I think you're a little late for that. I mean, really, you've been a first rate chump this entire round and camera girl would have to be blind not to see it. Still, a slut like that probably doesn't need much to spread her legs, so I'm sure she'll make you feel better once you're out of the hospital."

"Bitch!" Jessie growled, gritting her teeth in anger.

"Chill. She's just trying to mess with Xan's head," he said while trying to keep his own emotions in check.

He knew for a fact that it'd take someone Jessie had well and truly fallen for to make her fuck a guy because he had tried every move he'd had on her and gotten nothing out of it. Those same moves had almost allowed him to go twelve for twelve with last year's MAXIM cover models so he knew they worked. So implying that Jessie was some kind of nymphomaniac was like saying God ran his own brothel: ridiculous and insulting. However, while he knew how to deal with trash talk, Xander was still young and, if things went poorly, would probably fall for the bait.

"Then again that's assuming I leave anything there for her to work with after this," Juri said, speculatively as she glanced down where Xan's package would be. "It'll be hard with so SMALL a target but my sensei taught me well when it came to precision."

"Shut up," Xander growled before going back on the offensive.

"Ooohh! Found a tender spot, did I?" Juri asked rhetorically as she glided away from every blow sent her way. "Got dumped a lot back in high school 'cause of that, didn't ya? Bet the sluts you dated got all hot and bothered but when they looked to get some release there wasn't enough to get even a LITTLE satisfaction."

"Shut up!" Xander exclaimed as he executed a punch-kick combo that on anyone else would've made contact.

"Keep cool, Xander!" he yelled hoping to keep his assistant from blowing his stack. "She's just trying to mess with your head! Stay frosty!"

Sadly the words didn't seem to be having any effect since Xan was still going after the sadist full tilt despite the fact that that approach had yet to bear fruit. A part of him wanted to charge in himself and just get his friend disqualified in order to spare the kid the sadistic beating that was incoming. However a larger part of him knew it would be the same as saying 'I do not trust you to fight your own fight' to Xander and the kid's pride would make things abrasive between the two of them for a while. He knew he'd be sore at anyone who swooped in to rescue him in the middle of a fight, regardless if he was losing the fight or not. Then there was also the fact that he might wind up getting disqualified along with Xander if he intervened. Seeing as how the whole point of entering the tournament was to win it and prove to the world that he was a true martial artist, he wasn't about to turn the whole trip into a giant waste of time.

He'd just have to hope that the referee had sense enough to stop Juri before any permanent damage was done.

 _ **Juri Han's POV**_

 _Tch! This is getting boring,_ she thought as she effortlessly glided around the retard's attacks. _I know I'm getting paid to let this idiot win but if he keeps this up, I'm just gonna kill'em and screw the money._

She had arrived on the island, intrigued at the possibility of fighting so many powerful toys and indeed she had seen a few that caused a smile of anticipation to take on permanent residence on her face. It had only been later in the evening after arriving on the island that she'd been called before the big shot, Shang Tsung. According to him he wanted to set things up for his side to win the tournament and one of the ways he'd told her it could be done was by suckering the fool trying in vain to hurt her at the moment. The plan was to make all his opponents throw their matches convincingly, or do something to those who wouldn't cooperate that would give the oaf before her a decided edge. The first reward offer had been a chest full of enough gold and precious jewels that just about anyone would drool at the possible uses for it all.

Like she gave a fuck about money or wealth.

Her interests were more intriguing and a great deal easier to come by if you knew where to look.

Strong toys.

That's all that interested her and all that'd drawn her to the tournament in the first place.

Once she'd made that clear to Shang Tsung, the man had told her that if she did as asked he could arrange for her to fight some of the stronger fighters that made it to the final rounds… away from prying eyes, of course. This had her thinking since if the ones the old man sent her after were good enough to make it to the final rounds, then fighting them would be truly entertaining. So in the end she'd agreed to the deal and walked away, hoping that her first fight would at least whet her appetite in preparation for the main course.

Sadly, aside from a few surprises, the boy before her had been little more than a distraction.

After dodging one more combination she chose to end it for good and Tsung could go fuck himself.

Kicking her Feng Shui Engine to full strength, she ducked under another sloppy punch from her opponent before initiating a series of upwards spinning kicks. With every single one that connected she sent her foe higher into the air and, once she was satisfied that they were high enough, she delivered an axe kick to the boy's stomach, sending him back to the ground. For others this would be the end of the move… but not for her. With her engine she unleashed a burst of speed with her enhanced ki, beating the moron to the ground and allowing her to execute a spinning back kick to the spine. She was a little disappointed that she didn't hear the lovely sound of vertebrae cracking but the strangled gasp of pain made up for it.

"That felt good, didn't it?" she said before pivoting and slamming the idiot to the ground face first.

And that was that.

No one had managed to get back up from the Kaisen Dankairaku.

Indeed they NEVER got up again whether it was because she'd killed them or merely paralyzed them for the rest of their worthless lives. Turning away from her defeated foe, she waited for the referee to declare her the winner so she could find something FUN to do. When nothing happened she got ready to turn around to snap at the referee to hurry up and call the match. However it was when she felt an odd sensation coming from behind her that she turned and saw something that she had not expected.

No, it wasn't the fact that her opponent was rising to his feet, though that was a source both of surprise as well as anger.

The unexpected part that had her gaping a little was the fact that arcs of electricity were dancing up and down her opponent's body with a violence that was both frightening yet oddly exciting. Up and up her gaze went until she reached her opponent's eyes, there finding not the furious brown eyes she'd seen before but crackling pools of electricity focused entirely on her. It was then that she realized she was showing weakness and immediately she killed it within her mind as well as within her body. She refused to BE weak or LOOK weak! The weak died and the strong did as they pleased! That was the way of the world and a lesson she'd learned well since she was fifteen. Ever since then she had done all she could to become powerful, to exercise that power to the fullest and make every single one of her dreams come true.

She would NOT falter now.

"Bet you make a great bug zapper," she said condescendingly as she casually started walking to the left. "Or maybe a battery for a vibrator! Guess that explains why your girlfriends kept you around for as long as they did."

"If you won't shut up then I'll shut you up," he said with an otherworldly quality.

"You're welcome to try," she said bringing her leg up in the standard ready position.

FLASH.

With a flash of light her foe went from fifteen feet away from her to less than five and, before she could bring her raised leg into the proper position for defense, he executed a palm thrust to her stomach. The blow itself was more powerful than anything she had received from her foe beforehand and in addition to it a charge of electricity that reminded her of the time she'd been hit with a stun gun. Involuntarily she screamed in pain, both from the blow as well as from the electricity, stopping only after her back hit the platform, though that may have been the result of the remaining air being knocked from her lungs.

She did not let this paralyze her, though, and as soon as she had the strength and the mental coherence she got her feet back under her body. Looking back at her foe, she could see the electricity still crackled across his form and his eyes still held the pools of power, supplemented by an expression of unassailable determination. Anger swelled within her that this nobody, this AMATEUR, had struck her and made her look weak for even a moment. It was intolerable!

With anger she willed the engine in her eye to its maximum output and she charged her foe, intent on showing him who the truly powerful one was. Using a feint kick as a starting point she unleashed a barrage of attacks, intent on battering him into a bloody pulp, leaving him to be scraped off the platform. After all if she killed him some might think she did so believing that she considered the electric idiot a true threat. However if she left him broken but alive it would send the message that he wasn't worth killing and was beneath her. It was during this assault that she learned that while electricity might be bouncing up and down his body, it appeared that only in his fists and his feet was it concentrated enough to harm her. This pleased her for the most part since it meant that she could indeed harm him without harming herself in the process, but it also forced her defense to be comprised only of evasion. She learned quickly that if she tried to block his attacks only the physical side of it would be blunted, leaving the built up electric charge to pass over into her body.

Too bad the speed at which her foe was moving was only increasing even though her eye was at full output.

 _This is impossible!_ she thought as she found it harder and harder to evade the incoming attacks. _Those fucking lawyers said no one'd be able to match me with this!_

It had been the final piece of the puzzle she'd needed for her primary goal in life and, coupled with her mastery of Taekwondo, it should've made her unbeatable.

Yet this amateur was actually gaining ground on her despite her best efforts!

With this in mind she chose to execute a technique she'd developed on her own after receiving the eye implant and, while not complete, it could be her only road to victory. Thus she put some distance between herself and her opponent before preparing herself to channel ki to her legs, then, when all was ready, she attacked. To an outside observer it might look like she was starting her kick too soon but she smiled as the ki field around her attacking foot slammed into her opponent. Deciding if one felt good two would feel even better she immediately fired off another kick aimed for a target a bit lower than the first, sending the idiot staggering back. Her confidence renewed she pushed her offensive hard, determined to make him pay for every moment of pain he'd caused her.

In the end she managed to push him all the way to the edge of the platform and with a final powerful blow she could knock him off securing the win and the match.

However now that she had a confirmed way of attacking him and HURTING him, she didn't feel like letting it end so soon. Thus with one of her back flip kicks she knocked him into the air and then following him up, only to kick him to the center of the platform. He landed with a satisfying bounce so when she landed herself she felt confident that the world was finally spinning right and she could get back to having some fun. Her toy's abilities certainly added some spice to the mix, making him far more entertaining than she'd thought he would be, however now that she had regained her edge she also regained her control. True, she was still at a disadvantage in the area of speed but she made up for that with superior skill and experience. Coupled with her now proven way of doing damage and victory was once more a certainty for her.

Waiting until her foe was halfway to his feet she attacked, delivering a kick to bring his head up while riding the momentum so that she was in prime position to deliver two follow up kicks that were also push offs in order to stay airborne. It sent the idiot back to the platform surface twice and, when he rolled away, she smiled at the sight of blood on the platform tile where his head had been.

It was always nice to know that her hard work was paying off.

"It's a nice change to see a man laid out on the floor. It's usually a woman in this sort of world," she said with malicious satisfaction. "I wonder if it'll be as much fun for me as it usually is for them."

She waited, waited for him to say something defiant or maybe beg for mercy.

They always did.

After almost a minute of nothing she frowned in dissatisfaction at the boy not sticking to the script. Deciding he needed a bit more prompting she went to another improvised technique she'd developed since gaining the Engine, executing a leg sweep that sent a wave of ki at her toy. To her surprise he actually managed an awkward hop over it before unsteadily getting back to his feet with a bloody face but electricity still crackling in his eyes.

Not the look of someone hurting and a step shy of breaking.

 _I'll have to do something about that,_ she thought with a feral expression of sadism.

 _ **Xander's POV**_

 _Guess she's not like Faith after all,_ he thought as he held into the power that had exploded from within him and allowed him to gain substantial ground against Juri.

He hadn't even been aware at first that the same phenomena that'd saved his ass against Faith had made a comeback until after he'd managed to knock Juri to the ground. He'd almost given into surprise but clamped down on that for fear that it would vanish again. Instead he'd done everything he could to utilize his power to win the round so he could go on to win the match. With every exchange his hopes of winning increased the gap between him and Juri decreased but he should've known that Murphy would rear his ugly head. Out of nowhere his opponent pulled a move out of her hat that turned the tide and had resulted in his current battered state. He knew it had something to do with energy and, considering the martial arts theme, it was probably ki, but whatever it was called it hit him just as hard as a homerun swung.

Now most people would've just called it quits but not him.

Anyone who knew him would probably attribute this to his usual stubbornness but they'd only be half right. He was stubborn about getting as far as he could get in the Mortal Kombat tournament but what made up the other half was something he hadn't anticipated. He'd actually started to ENJOY the match, pain and all. Sure, he helped out where he could with the Scoobies, but he'd never really enjoyed the fight because only masochists actually enjoyed feeling pain. It was more the results of the nightly patrols and weekly saving of the world that he took satisfaction in rather than the pain and injuries he received on the way to getting those results. Nevertheless, that didn't change the fact that in this fight had provoked a feeling of excitement in him that he hadn't seen coming. The closest thing that matched it was when he'd gotten all the way to the semifinals of a contest being held at the local arcade to celebrate the release of the newest game. He hadn't been a star jock or a member of the egghead brigade but the one thing that he both liked and was pretty good at was videogames. So much so that when he needed to supplement the cash he found beneath the couch cushions or skimmed off the change from buying the parental booze, he'd often dare people to play with him for money.

Sure, he had to mix things up a bit in order to keep luring in opponents, but the payoff was well worth the effort.

 _Somehow I don't think I'm gonna be humming back to my room if I don't pull a hat trick of my own,_ he thought as he watched Juri stalk towards him in a sexy yet dangerous manner.

Covertly he tested each of his limbs as well as his torso to see just how badly he was hurt and if he could actually pull out a win. Most of the painful points on his body were bearable but there was one that almost overcame his ability to keep it from showing on his face. In his mind this meant that while he'd need the icy-hot after the fight it was still possible for him to beat Juri and move onto the next match.

That, hopefully, wouldn't take place until tomorrow.

With that in mind he tried to think of a way to overcome the new ki improved moves of his opponent and put her down not just once but twice since two rounds of victory were needed to move on. He couldn't risk letting her line him up for another barrage but with whatever power enhancing method she had their speed was pretty much even. Therefore in order to beat her he needed to somehow get out of her field of vision and then dive in to close quarters so he could land deciding blows before the lady could recover. The only tool he had that might do the job was the electricity he now had in abundance. If he could somehow generate a big enough discharge, the light could very well be enough to blind Juri temporarily. Then with speed he could get in her face and land hits that'd take her legs out of the equation, or at least slow them down to the point where they wouldn't be as effective. There was only one problem with that plan.

He had ZERO ideas about how to make the electricity he was putting out do what he wanted it to do!

Everything he'd managed to do since his new powers had manifested had happened as the result of instinct and will more than conscious thought. Still, he didn't have many other options and Juri was getting close enough to resuming kicking his ass, so he had to act fast. Looking within he tried to feel his new power, as though it were a tangible thing rather than just a visual light show. Crunch time proved to be excellent motivation because he soon found something that he had never felt back in Sunnydale. With it located he tried to control it like he would muscles to channel the electricity into his right hand but keeping it condensed once it got there. When nothing happened after the first second he began to worry. When two seconds passed by he was almost ready to just toss his current idea and go with what he knew worked.

It was at the third second that he hit pay dirt as he felt… something… flow down his right arm and, when it reached his right hand, he kept it constricted just beneath the skin.

He waited as long as he dared but, when his time ran out, he lashed out with his right hand, putting it as close to Juri's face as he could before releasing the gathered energy all at once. Through some benevolence from a higher being his desperate gambit worked… a little too well. He got the bright flash he wanted but it blinded not only Juri but also made him see spots, disorienting him for a moment before he realized that he wouldn't get another shot at ending this round. Using where he recalled her being as a reference point along with what little he could make out through her impaired eyes, he went on the offensive.

Using every power move he could execute with sufficient speed, he did everything he could to inflict as much damage as he could before the blinding effects of his powers wore off. Everything from the memories he'd retained from Soldier Boy to what Johnny had taught him during his free time away from being a top movie star. This aggravated the pained parts of his body but it was a necessary evil and so he continued to do his best to bring the hurt to Juri. When his vision was almost completely back to normal he figured that the same could be said for psycho girl. So on a whim more than anything else he grabbed her head in a front face lock, grabbed the waistband of her pants in order to lift her up so that her head was pointed at the ground, and then let gravity take control. As a result Juri's head impacted the stone floor of the platform and, once he felt said impact, he let go of the facelock, allowing the queen kicker to fall free. Rolling himself back to his feet he got to a crouched position, looking towards his foe to see if he could do a victory dance for the round or still had work to do.

Juri was flat on her stomach and, while he could tell she was still breathing based on the rise and fall rhythm of her body, that was about it. No sound came from her lips, nor were their movements of any sort that indicated that she was able to continue the fight. Rising up he watched as the referee came back onto the stage and, after walking over to Juri, bent down to one knee before placing two fingers on her throat. Once the monk confirmed that her heart still beat he pried open her non magical eye, no doubt to look for any sign of lingering consciousness. This apparently did not yield positive results for as soon as he stood back up, the monk extended an arm in his direction.

"Round three goes to combatant Xander Harris!" the monk declared for all to hear. "Also it appears as though combatant Juri has suffered significant harm and is no longer in any condition to fight. Therefore the deciding round and the match go to combatant Xander Harris!"

The crowd that'd gathered to see the fight cheered and he himself felt an even mix of relief and exhilaration at coming out on top even if he didn't win the way he preferred. Though it'd mean more work and more pain for him, he would've preferred to win the final round fighting Juri and proving himself to be the superior fighter. Still, as a bit of lightheadedness caused him to sway, his pride relented and he decided to take the victory for what it was rather than get picky about it.

"I have been instructed by Shang Tsung that, in consideration of your inexperience towards hand-to-hand combat, you will not have to fight again until tomorrow," the monk said, turning to face him entirely. "However be aware that going forward you will be expected to fight a minimum of twice per day. Take this into consideration both as you rest between matches as well as during the fights themselves."

"Sure," he said, comprehending the importance of the advice.

While he didn't know precisely how long the tournament itself was expected to be, his best guess put it around three weeks from start to finish. Two weeks for the elimination round, five for the final rounds with four interspersed during the final rounds, perhaps for rest or perhaps for some sort of traditional ceremony.

 _I just hope that this divine heritage shtick comes with accelerated healing,_ he thought as he began to walk towards the stairs closest to where Johnny and Jessie were waiting for him.

"Welllll it wasn't pretty but congrats on your first win in a professional tournament match," Johnny said half genuinely congratulating, half mocking.

"And I got it all on recorded," Jessie said, putting her camera back in its bag. "I'll probably need to do some editing so you can see everything but I can do it after we get back to civilization."

"You'd do that?" he asked, a little surprised as he reached the bottom of the stairs.

"Sure. Like Johnny said it's your first pro fighting tournament. You should have something to remember it by," she replied with an affirmative nod.

"Thanks. For now though I need an ice pack and probably some bandages," he said as he began to make his way towards the large building where all the fighters were being put up. "I'll try to make it back in time for your next match, Johnny."

"I'll see you then!" Cage declared with his usual cockiness. "It'll be a match to remember!"

Of this he had no doubt.


	5. One Step Forward, Two Steps Back

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the copyrighted materials contained herein. They are the rightful property of their respective creators and/or associated companies. I make no profit from this whatsoever and I have no intention of changing this at any point in the future. I write because it's fun and because some people enjoy reading my stories. Therefore it would be greatly appreciated if no legal action were taken against me.

PS-Positive reviews are greatly appreciated. Constructive criticism will be considered but not necessarily acted upon. People looking to take a dump on my work and overall ruin my day will be ignored at the very least and review blocked at the very worst.

 _ **Preliminary Match Elimination Area**_

 _ **Raiden's POV**_

 _His inexperience with his heritage shows but he acquitted himself admirably,_ he thought as he watched the focus of many people's interest walk away from the elimination platforms.

However he knew it would only get more difficult from there onward for he had seen those the young demigod would likely fight and all of them had superior experience.

One of them was even fated to have their evil ways ended by another.

He had been comforted by the likelihood that Shang Tsung would attempt to ensure that Alexander proceeded to the final rounds, but if Juri was anything to go by there was no guarantee that the future combatants would abide by the sorcerer's script. Indeed, at least half of the potential opponents Xander could face off against were mentally unstable while others had been known to allow their emotions to override their better judgment. Also, while Juri was skilled and possessed a power he suspected that she had acquired from infernal sources, she was far from the most dangerous fighter competing. As the weak were weeded out the difficulty level would only rise, leading to more and more challenging fights.

He could only hope that when Alexander was defeated it was at the hands of someone compassionate and merciful.

Turning his gaze to where Liu Kang was finishing, he was unsurprised to see the member of the Order of Light and the White Lotus Society working his way to victory. This was to be expected since it was on this young warrior that he had placed his hopes for an Earthrealm victory in this most important of tournaments. He had been trained in the martial arts since he was a child and it had been the potential he'd seen there that had prompted him to take the young warrior to see Bo'Rai Cho. The man, while of questionable appearance and habits, had trained numerous warriors over his long life and many of them had gone on to forge legends.

Only time would tell if this would be the start of Liu Kang's legend or the end of his story.

 _Alexander's heritage should heal his injuries in short order,_ he thought as his mind drifted back to the unexpected demigod. _Nevertheless his supplementary instruction in the martial arts should begin as soon as possible. The risk is too great to leave matters to chance._

Indeed, given the ferocity and sadistic natures of some of the beings present on the island, to say nothing of Shang Tsung, the young man was in great danger. While he would watch over the demigod as best he could, his primary focus needed to be on Liu Kang and the successful defeat of Outworld. Liu had already volunteered to provide some instruction and he had little doubt that Johnny Cage would likewise work to improve his friend's skills as best he could in the time they had.

It was then that he considered another that might be willing to aid Alexander. According to the chart displaying who would fight whom in the elimination round, the one he had in mind would not be facing Xander until the final rounds of Mortal Kombat, if at all. As such there would be no unfair advantage given to either through improvised instruction between official matches.

It might even resolve a lingering taint that he had been informed of by the young lad's observer.

After a minute of consideration he made his decision.

 _ **A Hidden Chamber Beneath the Main Buildings**_

 _ **Shang Tsung's POV**_

 _How INFORMATIVE,_ he thought as he terminated the spell that he'd used to observe the match.

Indeed, while there was nothing remarkable about the young demigod's fighting prowess, the match had allowed him to properly examine the youth's power. It indicated that whoever Alexander's divine parent was, one of their domains was lightning and that narrowed down the possibilities that he would research later in the evening. However, given the situation and the way that the Fates tended to work, his instincts told him that Alexander's divine parent could very well be Raiden, Protector of Earthrealm. If that was indeed the case then the potential usefulness to his plans increased, for he knew it would please his Lord greatly to hear that Outworld's tenth and final victory came as a result of the fooling and death of Raiden's son.

As for him personally… while it would be quite beneficial to use the boy to win the tournament, he couldn't help but consider another option, one that could benefit him personally if he played his cards right.

It was no secret that he had no intention of remaining court sorcerer for Shao Kahn forever but at present even his skills in magic were not enough to defeat the Emperor of Outworld. Therefore, ever since he'd set his sights on greater things, he had been on the lookout for a suitable pawn to help bridge the gap in power. Whether he would get a loyal subordinate or a powerful partner it mattered not so long as he could succeed in usurping the throne of Outworld. Of course turning Alexander into either would likely require an 'adjustment' of the youth's soul in order for that to happen but that would be easy enough to achieve. Over the centuries he had learned many new spells, dozens of new rituals, not the least of which involved the rewriting of the human soul. True, those with a strong will did not emerge from the reshaping without being a little malformed either physically or mentally but they still suited his purposes.

 _Nevertheless, it would be prudent to observe the boy further before making any real plans,_ he thought as he moved to leave his spell chamber.

The victory over Juri Han had not been a clean one and if the boy could not even dominate a revenge-obsessed girl like that then he would be useless against the Emperor. Only if Alexander could make it to the final rounds could he be considered strong enough to be worth including in future plans.

 _Though if he winds up facing HIM before the final rounds, he will cease to be a concern,_ he thought with a sinister smile. _…To anyone!_

 _ **One of Many Dirt Paths**_

 _ **Johnny Cage's POV**_

"That guy sure looked like he was giving you trouble for a second there, Johnny," Xander said as they left the elimination round area.

"PLEASE! The guy might be good on the dance floor but who was he trying to fool thinking he could take me with moves like that?" he asked rhetorically as he dismissed the idea that he'd just had a hard fight.

"It's called Capoeira, Cage, and it's a real martial art," Jessie said from his right, sounding like she wanted him to take things more seriously. "Sure, it has some bits from dancing, acrobatics and music but it's still a style of fighting."

Unlike what Jessie probably thought he knew that Capoeira was a real fighting style and he had to admit that Eddy Gordo was pretty good. He'd seen a few other practitioners back during his tournament days and his previous opponent definitely ranked among the upper echelon in how good he was. In the end he triumphed just like he knew he would and had come out of the match with barely a scratch. Still, he'd done the good sportsmanlike thing and helped Eddy back to his feet and commended him on his skill as well as the effort put into the match. Given a couple of more years and some more experience fighting opponents trained under different fighting disciplines and Gordo could be a top contender in any tournament he entered.

But he'd never be the best so long as Johnny Cage was around!

"Sure, sure! Now howsabout we get something to eat and then find someplace to get some training done?" he said, putting an end to any more discussion on the fight he won.

"Training?" Xander asked, clearly having missed the metaphorical turn.

"Remember what we said back on the boat and after?" he asked in response. "If this Shang Tsung guy is trying to set you up to take a fall then we need to make you the best you can be quick. That means aside from sleeping or eating you're going to be fighting or training."

"I guess that's okay since it isn't like there're many other things to do on this island," Xander agreed though he wasn't entirely enthusiastic about it.

He couldn't have that.

"How about if I make it so that for every training goal you meet I'll toss in a five grand bonus to your paycheck when we get back?" he proposed with his usual smile on his face.

"You really got that much money to toss around?" Xander asked, sounding like he was interested.

"You forget who you're talking to?" he asked with a bit of incredulity. "I'm a millionaire, Xander! A couple thousand dollars is pocket change for me. Besides, if it'll get you working hard it'll be worth it."

"Then here's hoping that it'll be worth it," Xander said agreeing finally to the extra training.

"Hey you've almost completely healed up from the bruising Juri gave you and it's only been a few hours," he said, pointing at the faded bruises on his friend's face. "You'll be fit for your fights tomorrow morning no problem."

"Then where do you think we should go for the training?" Xander asked, moving things along to the details of the training.

"I saw a forest a little ways east of the main buildings and I think I saw the path that'll take us there." He turned towards the area of the island that had the densest collection of buildings. "We'll grab some food and drink from the fighter dorm and then head right there."

"Sounds like a plan," Xander said before turning to Jessie. "You coming?"

"Nah. I've got to look over the footage for today and edit out the bad stuff," Jessie said with a shake of her head.

"Wasn't the point of using that kind of camera to make it impossible to modify the footage?" Xander asked, a little confused.

"It's impossible to insert stuff into it or digitally alter it using a computer," Jessie explained with a grin on her face. "There's no problem cutting out the unnecessary stuff and focusing only on the important fights."

"She's right. If she didn't edit anything out it'd take a few days to go through everything and I doubt the critics back home are patient enough for that," he said, pointing out a bit of common sense.

"True. I just hope they don't attack Jessie's work and accuse her of cutting out all the bad parts to make you look good," Xander said, no doubt thinking about how things could turn sour.

"Don't worry. I haven't done work for Johnny in years and they know I'm not the type to fabricate stuff just for an extra big payday," Jessie said, not sounding worried at all.

That was another reason why she'd been chosen.

While Jessie might not have as much mileage on her career as some camera people might, her reputation was still solid enough that anyone trying to attack her credibility wouldn't have much to work with. At most they'd probably accuse her of being star struck and falling for his lady killing moves but anyone who really knew Jessie would laugh at that. They would laugh because the first time they met and he'd tried to put the moves on her she'd let him in on a crucial truth.

Jessie was into girls, not guys.

He was pretty sure she'd humor any guy that put the moves on her but only up to a certain point. Now if a particularly attractive lady came onto her and she happened to be Jessie's type… then you probably wouldn't see her until the following morning.

If the stories were true, of course. Tales tend to grow with each telling, after all.

It took about five minutes for them to reach the combatants dorm but they didn't stay long, just enough to toss a few finger foods and some drinks into a bag before he and Xander went one way and Jessie went back to their room to do her work. He had to look a bit before he found the path he'd mentioned earlier but once he saw it the two of them were off.

As they walked they took in more and more of the island's scenery, which definitely had the expected Oriental bent, but whoever the grounds keeper was needed to be given a kick in the ass. Statues were partially covered with vines and, the further they got from the center of island civilization, the more cracks there were in the stone pathways. You'd think that any tournament capable of drawing in this sort of crowd would have the resources needed to keep the island it pristine condition.

 _Maybe when I become champ I can take the place over and, with a little help from some investors, get it looking more reasonable,_ he thought idly as a clearing came into sight a little further down the path they were on.

Once they arrived he looked about the place and, aside from a few statues that were in disrepair, it looked to be suitable for a bit of training.

"Okay, dump your stuff on the side and let's get to work," he said as he put his own stuff on the side.

Fortunately for Xander he hadn't taken too many hits from Gordo and neither had he been forced to go all out to win two rounds. Nevertheless they both had two matches to fight tomorrow so staying up too late would not be a good idea. With the first batch of contestants eliminated, the next fighter he went up against might actually force him to work up a decent sweat.

"So what's first?" Xander asked, looking ready to learn.

"First comes meditation," he replied, sitting down and crossing his legs.

"Meditation?" Xander asked.

"Yeah, I had a similar reaction when I started out but it makes sense after a bit," he replied as he assumed the proper meditative position. "I got a big, hyped up speech about it but basically it involves emptying your mind of everything, visualizing a representation of what you wish to do as a fighter and then letting it grow until it covers everything around you. Five minutes is usually how long it takes."

With that in mind he closed his mind and with his memories began to meditate just like he'd first been taught all those years ago. He banished the imaginings of how others might laugh seeing him do this or think it was out of character, but the truth of the matter was that he'd always been serious about the martial arts. Even after he started on his movie career he still adhered to the same training regime he'd used back on the tournament circuit. Plus, no matter what the fighting style, every practitioner had their own way of getting their brains in the proper mindset for competing, or 'getting in the zone' as some people called it. Maximizing your concentration in battle would always produce the best results.

He didn't open his eyes but he let his concentration lapse just a bit to listen and see if Xander was managing well enough. From what he could hear the kid was doing okay but there was still a bit of fidgeting audible to his ears. This was to be expected though since, until you experienced the benefits of meditation firsthand, it was hard to work up the resolve to really apply yourself.

"Okay. That should do it," he said after five minutes had passed. "Since we've both finished fighting I think it's safe to say we can skip the warming up and stretching. Next we move onto the proper stances for fighting. I can only teach you the basics of Karate but hopefully we'll be able to find one that'll suit you good enough."

Getting to his feet he walked to the center of the clearing and assumed the first stance.

"This is referred to as the walking stance," he said, making sure to emphasize the placement of each part of his body. "Place one foot forward, the other foot at a forty-five degree angle behind you and they're at the normal walking distance apart."

Pausing, he watched as Xander set up his own feet up in the same position as him.

"The next is the front stance," he said, altering the positioning of his feet. "It's kinda like the first stance but your feet have to be much further apart and most of your weight's going to be on your front leg."

Xander was quicker to follow his lead this time and, while a little off, he knew it'd take a bit of practice.

"The final stance is the back stance and, as you can probably guess, it's a lot like the first stance but your weight's mostly on the back leg rather than the front." He took the right stance himself. "Some people who do Karate raise up the heel of their front leg but I've never seen the point of it."

Xander took up the same stance, experimenting with raising his front heel a bit before putting it down. Seeing it from this perspective he had to admit that it kinda looked like it belonged in a kung fu movie but he still couldn't discern how useful it'd be in a real fight.

"Now, along with these stances is how important it is to maintain your balance at all times," he said, taking on his preferred Karate stance. "For a lot of Karate experts, myself included, you need to be able to fluidly move between all three depending on the situation. The stances provide stability that allows you to put some power in your moves. Also, sticking to just one stance makes it too easy for your opponent to attack you. It's like relying on only one type of kick or one type of punch; you get predictable. Try moving through the stances: first in order and then at random."

Circling Xander to see the kid from all angles, he stepped in every once in a while to correct some flaws but for the most part he could see his personal assistant was getting it right. Most of the roughness was the result of inexperience, which practice would iron out the kinks from quickly enough. He let his friend go through the stances for a little over ten minutes before choosing to move on to the next part.

"Now this next part is a no brainer. Power and speed are at the core of Karate but that doesn't mean you should lift weights like crazy and bulk up. More mass means more effort and big muscles can actually slow you down, making whatever strength they have pretty pointless." He showed off a few moves that illustrated this fact. "It's all about using the energy of your entire body in your attacks and your blocks. When you attack, try to put more of your body into it."

Xander tried it a few times but with some of the kicks and punches he overdid it, almost falling over due to a temporary loss of balance.

"Don't worry about screwing up a few times in the beginning. Practice makes perfect is not just a saying. The more you do it, the quicker you'll learn how to do it right," he said, encouraging his pseudo student to continue working at it.

As he continued with his instruction in the basics of Karate he went through the five basic kicks and the six basic punches that were at the core of the style. Going through each one, he waited until Xander executed each one passably before moving along to the next one. When they finally reached the end of the list he moved on to showing a few of the basic katas so as to show the kid how each punch and each kick could be used in combination for maximum effect.

Thus hours passed and it was only when he noticed the moon shining in the sky, surrounded by diamond-like stars, that he realized how late it must be.

"Let's call it quits for now," he said, taking a few cleansing breaths. "It's probably around midnight right now and my first match is at nine."

"Ten for me," Xander said, breathing a little hard and looking a little sore. "Wonder who I'll be facing."

"Hopefully someone better than that Juri chick," he said, remembering how the girl had fought.

'Vicious' was definitely a word that came to mind when he thought of how the purple-clad girl had fought and there'd been something seriously freaky about her left eye what with the flashlight routine. He wasn't sure HOW the girl had done it but it'd definitely had an effect on her body, boosting it beyond what should've been possible for a human being. More and more it was being made clear to him that there were more layers to the world than most people knew and some of them were pretty damn freaky.

 _I hate it when reality goes topsy-turvey,_ he thought as the two of them began to walk back along the path that'd lead them to the fighter's dorm.

 _ **Johnny, Jessie and Xander's Fighter Dorm Room**_

 _ **The Next Day**_

 _ **Xander's POV**_

 _MAN! Did I sleep good last night or what?_ he thought as he stretched in his bed before tossing the covers aside.

Though that was to be expected when you fought hard and then trained hard all in one day.

Looking at the sunlight coming in through the window, he could see that Johnny and Jessie had already left either for breakfast or for Cage's first match. A little annoyed that they hadn't woken him up so he could get ready in time for the latter, he quickly went to work throwing on some fresh fight worthy clothes before leaving for breakfast. He couldn't fight on an empty stomach after all and if he wound up missing Johnny's first match of the day then the movie star only had himself to blame. Leaving his room, he could hear the sounds of other late risers like himself so he took some solace in the possibility that perhaps his first opponent of the day had slept in as well.

When he got to the eating area he quickly picked through the assortment of food and drink available, focusing on things that wouldn't interfere in his fight later on. The last thing he needed was to be in the middle of an intense fight with someone only to have nature call and demand that he beat feet to the nearest toilet or bush. Keeping it simple, he then went to a vacant table before sitting down and savoring each bite. To him it was sacrilege to wolf down food as fast as you could because part of the delight of eating was being able to savor the taste of what you were eating.

 _Very non-commercial stuff,_ he thought as he chewed his latest bite. _Don't see a single thing here that could've come from a package or container._

Some restaurants or even a normal person's kitchen almost always had something bought from the local grocery store since it'd be too costly to grow or breed it themselves. However, looking at the food on his plate as well as well as on the table a dozen feet away, all of it looked fresh from the ground, oven or butcher shop. It was a refreshing change of pace and, if he focused on the flavor, he could perceive the difference between store bought and home grown.

 _Maybe when I get back to Sunnydale I'll see about finding a patch of dirt to start a home garden on,_ he thought idly as he took a drink of fruit juice.

It was as he set his glass down that someone pulled out the chair on the other side of the table and sat down. Looking up, he thought it'd be either Johnny or Jessie, but to his surprise it turned out to be Kasumi the ninja girl from yesterday. She was clad in more normal clothes than what she'd worn to the ring but he still had to admit that she looked pretty hot.

"Good morning… Kasumi, wasn't it?" he asked, wanting to make sure of her name just in case Johnny's former opponent had a twin sister on the island or something.

"Hai! Good morning," Kasumi replied, sounding like her grasp of English and experience using it were minimal. "Um… sleep well?"

"Yeah. I was pretty much wiped out after yesterday's fight," he replied with a slight grin. "This is my first martial arts tournament so I guess I underestimated just how hard it is on a body."

She seemed surprised that it was his first tournament and that was understandable. It was clear by looking at the people around them, as well as those on the fight platforms, that the Mortal Kombat tournament was for experienced and perhaps notorious fighters as well. For someone who'd never fought professionally before meant that either a mistake had been made or that person was some sort of prodigy that had been stumbled across. He didn't like the idea of being called a mistake but he didn't think he was some kind of prodigy either, so like it'd been so many times before in Sunnydale, it looked like he'd slipped past Fate once again.

With a sorcerer's help, of course, but still something few would've seen coming.

"Hai. Very tiring first time. Get easier after many time," Kasumi said with a nod of agreement.

"Well, I don't know how many other tournaments I'm going to compete in," he said honestly as he considered possible futures. "I kinda got forced into this one when I beat one of the contestants on the boat ride over."

"Not want to fight?" Kasumi asked with some surprise.

"Not when I heard about the tournament but now? I got a feeling that a lot more's at stake with this contest than being named champion," he replied honestly, looking half away from her. "If that's true then I can't just turn away and go home. I gotta see this through to the end."

He didn't go into detail and retell the tale that Raiden had given him about Outworld and possible invasion since he didn't know whether or not Kasumi was in the know or not. If she was some civilian fighter then she'd consider him to be a nutcase if he told her the truth, so until she gave some kind of hint that implied she knew the truth, he'd keep his mouth shut.

"Think you become champ?" Kasumi asked as he finished off the last of his breakfast.

"Nah! I don't have nearly enough experience or skill to pull that off," he replied with a slight chuckle. "I'll just get as far as I can and be happy with that."

"Hope you do well," Kasumi said with an encouraging smile that shone like the sun.

 _Whichever person manages to get her to say 'I do' is going to be one of the luckiest people on the planet,_ he thought before he forced himself to get over the dazzling smile.

"Well, I better get going," he said as he wiped his mouth with a napkin and stood. "With a little luck I can catch the tail end of my friend's first match of the day."

"I come with?" Kasumi asked tentatively with a hopeful look on her face.

"Sure. It's not like they plan on taking everyone who's lost and kick them off the island," he replied with his patent pending grin. "If they try I can just say you're with me. They don't seem to have a problem letting Jessie stick around and she's just the cameraperson Johnny hired."

"Arigatōgozaimashita!" she declared happily after bowing at him.

With that the two of them made it out of the dorm building and began following the stone path that'd lead them to the elimination round platforms. Ahead of them they could see others heading in the same direction but most of them were too far away to make out any details besides the color of their clothing and hair. He could tell just with a glance that at least a third of the people ahead of him and Kasumi either had a unique heritage or had a thing for coloring their hair in interesting ways. With outfits that were equally one of a kind, he kinda wondered why there weren't more headlines about them since they'd definitely stand out.

 _Guess the denial syndrome Sunnydale has variations the world over,_ he thought as he and Kasumi continued on their way. _People see what they want to see and ignore the rest._

It took about ten minutes to reach the elimination round platforms and already he could see the reduction in the number of combatants. Either fewer platforms were occupied than before or there weren't as many spectators watching the fights currently in progress. If this kept up then the elimination round would likely end precisely when Shang Tsung had stated it would during his big opening announcement. Looking at each platform in turn, it didn't take him long to find Johnny's fight and, from what he could see, his friend was getting pretty solidly pressured by his foe. Picking up the pace so he could get a closer look, he zig-zagged his way around the other fighters until he came to where Jessie was filming the fight.

"Thank you SO much for bothering to wake me up before heading out," he said humorously as he looked at the two fighters on the platform. "How's Johnny doing?"

"Holding his own for the most part but this Heihachi guy is pretty strong for an old guy," Jessie said, never deviating from her job. "Definitely the sort of fighter who believes in completely crushing his opponent both metaphorically and literally."

Looking at the fight going on, he saw more than enough evidence to support Jessie's point in terms of strength as well as method of fighting. Heihachi had black hair and was only just beginning to grow in some grey hairs but the power he possessed was real enough since, even if Cage managed to block an attack, the force was enough to push him back a bit. The older man had serious muscles that the grey gi with a lion on the back did little to hide but there was one thing about Heihachi's outfit that had him puzzled.

Why the hell was the guy wearing wooden sandals on his feet?

He knew there was some sort of official name for them but he couldn't think of it at the moment. They looked clunky and very impractical for fighting but he supposed they might fall under the same category as a weapon, like brass knuckles or a baseball bat.

Then again the old guy could just be old fashioned.

As for the man's fighting style, it looked very similar to Johnny's, so he thought perhaps it was a variation of Karate since it wasn't uncommon for practitioners of the trunk style to come up with a branch off variation. While he wasn't anywhere near an expert, he'd have to say that the changes from the base style were focused on increasing the offensive properties of the style while placing defense as a secondary concern. Fortunately there seemed to be a pattern to the older man's attacks: two weak punches then a power move. Likely the first two attacks were meant to soften up the opponent's defenses so that the power move could cut right through, hitting his foe directly. It looked like Johnny was aware of this as well but, even with this knowledge, the damage done to both his legs as well as his arms would mount up eventually. Depending on the power behind each move he was surprised that no bones had been broken yet but perhaps that was the true reason why Johnny got pushed back with each blocked power move. Doing so might reduce the power behind each move, preventing bones from cracking or breaking.

Nevertheless, further hits would only reduce Johnny's ability to advance in the tournament. If his next opponent proved to be of the ruthless sort then they'd almost certainly target any weaknesses Heihachi managed to pound into Johnny.

Looking at his friend's face, he could tell that while the usual movie star cockiness was still there, the gears were turning in his head, formulating a plan to end the match quickly. While there was no point to it, he took in the information the exchange of blows was providing to try and devise a means of ending the match sooner rather than later. He knew that even if he came up with the perfect plan, he wouldn't be able to convey it to Johnny without Heihachi hearing it too and quickly working to nullify it.

Still, if Johnny wound up losing, it could very well be him facing Heihachi at some point in the future, so coming up with a plan sooner rather than later would be a good thing.

His first thought was to use the amount of time your average power move took to execute to side step it so that he could then deliver an attack of his own. While it'd be nice if he could deliver a power move of his own, he didn't know if he could do it fast enough. If he could somehow tap into his divine blood at will he could use the speed that he'd used against Juri it wouldn't be a problem but that was the problem. Every time he'd gone electro-guy it'd been when something had pissed him off but he couldn't count on that happening every time. He needed to figure out a way to tap into it at will, anytime he wanted, or else it was an unreliable ability and not something he'd count on in a fight.

Another possibility was to allow Heihachi to push him towards the edge of the platform, wait for the power move that was intended to knock him off and then turn the tables on the older man. It'd take precise timing to get it right and, while he didn't like his odds, it was the one strategy that didn't require him to be a superior martial artist, only require that he have superior timing.

 _O-kay so it might take a little more luck than I'd like but it's still my best chance,_ he thought as the fight took Johnny back into the center of the platform.

"You're pretty good, child," Heihachi said in a condescending tone of voice. "However you are twenty years too young to defeat me."

"Oh, I don't know about that," Johnny said before attempting a low-low-high combo. "Personally I think you're past your prime. Time to show you what it means to fight the next generation."

Cage went on the offensive with a flurry of moves that seemed to be preventing a counter attack but, when he saw a familiar set up for his rising knee, Xander worried. While the move was great for knocking people on their ass it left you seriously vulnerable if you missed and Johnny had been around long enough to know this. Watching Heihachi, he could see the old man knew what was coming because he was already moving both hands to either block the knee or catch it so that it could be turned into a throw or a leg lock.

Then he remembered an important thing about the majority of Johnny Cage's films came with plot twists.

This fight was not all that dissimilar because then out of nowhere, instead of executing a rising knee, the movie star executed a perfect splits before slamming a punch right to Heihachi's family jewels.

 _Ouch! No matter how much a tough guy you might be, getting hit there hurts,_ he thought before watching Johnny perform a flip kick that scored a direct hit on Heihachi's jaw.

This sent the older man skyward and, when he came back down, Johnny executed a side-kick to Heihachi's chest, sending him flying away and out of the ring.

"Contestant Heihachi Mishima is out of bounds. Round two and the match go to Johnny Cage!" the monk referee declared, much to the mixed responses of the audience.

"NO! I will not accept this!" Heihachi yelled as he got back to his feet, a look of pure rage on his face. "No commoner can defeat the head of the Mishima Conglomerate!"

"I'm afraid the rules are quite clear on this, Mister Mishima," the monk said, unfazed by the older man's fury. "It was explained specifically at the beginning of the tournament what constituted a defeat. If you don't like it, I suggest that you found your own tournament then you may make the rules more to your liking."

This only enraged Heihachi more and it looked like he was considering attacking the monk before resuming his battle with Johnny, but then it was like a switch was thrown. The man in wooden sandals instantly calmed down before taking on a demeanor that suggested that what had happened was merely an inconvenience to him. Brushing off dust that may or may not have been there, he turned away from them all.

"I leave because it suits me to do so. No other reason," Heihachi declared in a way that was very convincing. "However do not think that I will allow this affront to go unpunished. Wait with growing dread for retribution will come when you least expect it."

With that the head of the Mishima conglomerate strode away, exuding the aura of a titan amongst commoners, with some people actually stepping out of his way without realizing they were doing it.

"Say what you want about the old guy but DAMN if he can't pull off the badass routine when he wants to," he said, speaking the honest truth.

"No doubts about that," Cage said, allowing himself to voice a little bit of his pain.

Guess this was lesson enough that just because a person had a few grey hairs, that didn't mean they couldn't kick some ass if they wanted to.

 _ **Johnny Cage's POV**_

It was about an hour later that Xander's fight came up and not for the first time he had to wonder whether the kid had good luck or bad luck.

On the one hand his assistant seemed to find trouble whether he wanted it or not. That was proven when the Irish asshole found him on the boat and later on when Shang Tsung targeted him for a scheme to fix the outcome of the tournament in Outworld's favor. Add to that the tales he'd been told of Xander's hometown, as well as what had not been said, and he had a feeling that it was a small miracle the college age kid was still alive.

 _He must have a god watching over him,_ he thought before considering who'd accompanied them off the boat. _Something that's a lot more possible now than I'd thought a year ago._

On the other hand, while psychotic, Juri had definitely been a looker and now, standing on the stage waiting for Xander to join her, was a hot blonde that almost managed to outshine the army chick he'd spotted back on the dock in Japan. Clad in a purple jumpsuit with dark purple boots ideal for kicking ass, she walked back and forth like a jungle cat awaiting the raising of the bars so that it could attack its prey. Looking at the woman's face, though, the term 'ice queen' fit like a glove since he could see zero emotion, making him remember that female robot assassin movie he'd watched a few years back.

Somehow he doubted this'd end with Xander and the lady waking up in bed naked, exhausted but COMPLETELY satisfied.

Watching Xander march up the steps and onto the fighting platform proper, he wondered what sort of fighting style the blonde used and how well it'd fare against what he'd taught Xander. While some martial artists might insist that there was no good or bad style and that all were equally good, he didn't share that belief. Each style had its own strengths and weaknesses, so if he ever went up against a fighter who used a style that was in the perfect position to take full advantage of Jeet Kun Do or Karate's weaknesses, then he'd be in seriously tight spot. Not to say he couldn't fight his way out of it and win, of course, because knowing what your own weaknesses were was the first step in making sure your opponent couldn't capitalize on them. At the same time, when you've practiced the same moves over and over again for years, linking them together in killer combos, there was the potential for your body to move before your brain could stop it.

In his case he had experience and memories of a lot of bruises past to force him to stay in control but Xander was young and that meant it was time for 'educational mistakes', as Master Boyd once called them.

Listening to the monk officiating the match go through the rules like he was reading a particularly boring script, he did a quick evaluation of both fighters before placing his bets on who'd win. Personally he'd prefer it if Xander won another match, since it'd be good for the kid's self-esteem and experience level.

"Remember what you've learned, Xander, and you'll kick her ass!" he yelled, feeling that a little encouragement might dispel any doubts his assistant might still have.

"Yeah. Sure. No problem," Xander said back even as he took up his usual fighting stance.

Listening as the monk officiating the match explained rules that every fighter that'd made it this far already knew, he looked over at Xan's opponent, Nina Williams if he remembered correctly, as she brought her fists up to fight. Seeing her do this he felt a 'twinge' of recognition inside him and it did not bring a good feeling with it. Yet, try as he might to find the connection, to remember, he couldn't and that only made him worry even more. Nevertheless, until the reason for his concern became known, he couldn't say or do anything so instead he just kept his eyes peeled and considered everything.

"Round one. Ready? FIGHT!" the monk declared before quickly removing himself from the fighting platform.

This time the fight didn't start off with a short staring contest since Xander went on the offensive immediately with a one-two combo meant to test her defenses.

A mistake, it turned out, that was quickly made apparent a moment later when Nina managed to parry the punch off to the side while surprisingly adding a bit more speed to the move. This was done with such speed that, by the time that Xander realized what was going on, he was already off balance and his left side was exposed. A painful lesson since a second after the blonde finished her parry and executed a perfect roundhouse kick that succeeded in striking Xan's side and sent him to the ground. Fortunately his assistant's resiliency meant that he quickly recovered and got back to his feet, looking like he was trying to figure out what'd happened. While he'd seen it well enough, he still couldn't put a name to the style.

Still, both he as well as Xander knew that allowing himself to taken advantage of again like he had just been couldn't be allowed to happen.

Nina, of course, looked at her opponent with a sort of icy condescension that no doubt'd make many a man angry. Fortunately, while this looked like it annoyed Xan, he still managed to keep his cool and approached with more caution than before. Too bad it was quickly shown that, while Williams' defense was good, her offense was even more devastating as she launched a combo of kicks and quick punches that ended with her turning her final punch into an elbow strike to the side of the head. Two thirds of them were successfully defended against either through blocks or evasion but the rest, including the elbow strike, hit their marks.

Whether by instinct or by conscious decision Xander quickly put some distance between himself and Nina, something he wholeheartedly agreed with because he finally managed to I.D the fighting style.

"XAN! She's using Hapkido!" he yelled as his mind fully comprehended the difficulty his friend faced with his current foe. "Watch out for her kicks and joint locks! Neither are going to be fun!"

"Gotcha!" Xander said before he was once again up forced to focus on his foe.

"How bad is it?" Jessie asked without looking away from her camera's eyepiece.

"Not great. Fought a Hapkido fighter once and I didn't like it one bit," he replied as he watched Xan do his best to keep his feet and fists under precise control. "They're experts at turning your own attacks against you and if they get you into one of their joint locks, you'll have a tough time getting out of them."

"Did you win?" she asked, sounding mildly curious.

"Of course! I'm Johnny Cage!" he said, allowing his move star confidence. "Needed the Icy Hot afterwards, though. The thing is, though, that there's a part of the joint locks that could be really bad if Nina's the type to use it."

"And that is?" she asked, sounding like she didn't want the answer to be drawn out.

"Joint locks can be turned into breaks real easy." He was not liking the odds of Xan progressing any further with a broken arm or leg.

"Damn," she said, realizing the potential obstacle in Xander's way.

"Yeah," he said, agreeing with her tone one hundred percent.

Watching the fight proceed he could tell that Nina was no 'fresh from the dojo' practitioner but he'd already suspected as much considering the quality of the fighters so far. Despite the show he put on for the others, he'd seen enough both secondhand and firsthand to know that there were no amateurs in this tournament. Everyone had the training, skill and experience to hold their own in the major leagues of hand-to-hand combat. When another combo of moves ended with a double palm thrust to the sternum, though, he couldn't help but grin a bit as Xander's body responded by kicking things up a notch.

A notch he liked to call 'lightning overdrive'.

Just like in the fight with Juri electricity began to dance about the surface of Xander's skin even as it crackled within his eye sockets. New strength appeared to have entered the teenager's body and, with a slight flaring of the dude's body lightning, upgraded speed also came with the overdrive. Before she knew what was going on Nina had blows coming her way that were twice as fast as hers had been and were only getting faster. Still, like all competent martial artists, learning to adapt to overcome on the spot was a definite requirement.

In this case it meant that Nina would have to watch for Xander's physical tells and correctly interpret what they told her. If she did that she should have just enough warning of his attacks to evade them since word had gotten around about what'd happened to Juri's efforts to block them. Whether or not she'd be able to evade AND then counterattack with blows aimed to the non-electrified parts… he'd have to wait and see.

 _Lady Luck don't abandon Xander now!_ he thought, hoping that the kid hadn't used up all his credit with the woman.

 _ **Xander's POV**_

 _SHIT!_ he thought even as he worked to end the fight before his body ran out of juice. _This blonde makes Buffy look like a kung fu fan girl._

Indeed, the complexity of the combos, the way she used his own speed as well as power to throw him off so she could attack, made it clear that screwing up was not advisable. While he was more confident now that his mojo was turned on, he still didn't think that it'd be enough to lock his victory into place. While Juri hadn't had the skill for precision blows, Nina was different and, even with his speed surging past hers, she was managing to hold her own. He could only guess that she was managing to read his body language well enough to tell when he was about to punch, kick or move in a specific direction.

How long that would be capable of keeping her in the fight though was anyone's guess.

One thing he was certain of was that he needed to finish this fight sooner rather than later before Nina memorized his attack patterns to the point where the only thing he'd hit would be air. Too bad in this situation the only thing that'd give him the win was an increase in skill or an increase in speed. If he did the former he could turn Nina's moves against her, thus increasing her damage accumulation. If he went with the latter choice he could overcome Williams' reaction times since it was a scientific fact that humans needed a quarter of a second to perceive something and another quarter to react. Sadly in the case of both options he had little past experience so he had no idea how to accomplish either of them.

 _I guess this is another 'fly by the seat of my pants' situation._ He grimaced as he attempted to instantly move from one kind of attack to another.

Punch to elbow strike.

Kick to leg sweep.

This did seem to have a positive effect in that it forced his opponent to consider modifying her blocks and evasions but he still couldn't land more than a glancing blow. Thus he decided to do something supremely risky and potentially defeat hastening but also something that might throw Nina off enough to land some devastating blows.

Change his fighting style and tempo.

In his opinion, the most dangerous moments in a fight with a stranger was in the first thirty seconds or so. It was during those times that you knew next to nothing about them and therefore could formulate neither a defense nor an offense. However, as a fight progressed, you got a better idea of what your enemy could do and could come up with strategies to take full advantage of any weaknesses while keeping an eye out for any dangers. However in doing so you risked locking yourself into a way of thinking that would allow you to get caught off guard if your foe knew more than one style of fighting.

That was what he was counting on since it was the best chance he had to snag a quick win.

With a deep breath he adjusted his stance to what he'd seen Liu Kang use during one of his fights and, with a quick 'GOD I hope this works', he began to mimic the combinations he'd seen Raiden's tournament choice use. It was painful at times since he knew that Kang had stretched and adapted his body to be able to perform certain moves perfectly whereas he could not but it wasn't unbearable. Plus he didn't think that he was in danger of tearing a ligament or muscle with the moves he was doing so it was all good and it was definitely having the desired effect. He could see the moments of hesitation that Nina had as she tried to figure out the new moves he was throwing at her so she could deal with them properly.

In one moment she misinterpreted a move and he succeeded in landing a side kick to her stomach that might not have put her on her back but it did cause her to stumble back before dropping to one knee. As she raised her eyes to look at him, though, he could still see the fire of defiance and the will to keep on fighting, so his momentary hope that she'd forfeit died a quick death. He also knew that he had to come up with a new set of moves because he doubted very much that Liu Kang's would serve him well for very much longer. Reverting to his usual fighting style, the one he learned from Johnny, wouldn't do him any good either since Nina already knew it and wouldn't need even five seconds to put things right back where he started.

 _C'mon…c'mon!_ he thought as Nina rose to her feet. _There has to be at least one fighter I've watched fighting enough to copy them for a couple of minutes._

He wouldn't risk doing any of the more acrobatic styles since he knew for a fact that he didn't have the chops to pull that off with any degree of competency. It had to be a more grounded style that would still keep him from falling victim to the strengths of Hapkido.

…Hey! Could he?

No… no… no way could he fake it that well and not get it thrown back in his face!

But it WAS the only style he'd seen enough of lately that he could fake that wasn't too acrobatic to be out of his reach. He'd just have to press forward as much as he dared once the surprise set in and score a hit that'd impair her movements significantly. If he could reduce her ability to evade or properly block his attacks then his own style would be enough to finish the fight allowing him to progress to the next match up.

 _Well here goes EVERYTHING!_ He adjusted his stance and then launched into a combination of moves guaranteed to throw Nina Williams off her game a bit.

Hapkido moves to be precise.

Even more precisely… her moves.

Since the moment the round had begun he'd needed a serious amount of focus to deal with the skill and fighting prowess of Nina Williams and with that focus came memories of everything she did or didn't do being burned into his brain. Naturally there were some physical differences and she had smoothness born of doing the moves a thousand times before, but just the same he knew them well enough. Thus he did not oppose the strikes she sent his way but flowed with it in order to build momentum to deliver counter attacks at exposed areas. So too did he redirect the attacks she sent his way in order to expose vital parts of her body for him to strike at. While he was worried about putting too much power into his kicks, he knew he had a limited window of opportunity and needed to score telling hits quickly. Fortunately for him his current rate of movement and strategy was letting him counter her body language reading nicely, allowing him to score three direct hits before Williams immediately put some distance between the two of them.

He couldn't allow that. Distance offered her time and that was something he couldn't give someone who had the advantage over him in terms of experience and skill, so he charged forward, intent in renewing his assault in the hopes of landing one more debilitating blow followed by one that'd send Nina to the ground long enough for the monk official to declare him the winner of round one. From what he could see she was too far away from the edge of the ring to be kicked out so his only option was to knock her out. A blow to the jaw would be enough but he wasn't sure whether to do so with his fist or a foot.

In the end he chose to go with the move that'd allow him to keep the maximum amount of distance but still deliver the necessary force to Williams' jaw.

With a quick feint to throw off his opponent with regards to where he was planning to strike, he executed a reverse spinning heel kick to the blonde's jaw.

Too bad she wasn't nearly as beat up as he'd thought.

With speed and precision she ducked under his kick and then delivered a double palm thrust to his stomach, surprising him completely.

While he had kept his stomach muscles tight like Johnny had taught him, the powerful blow still managed to knock the wind right out of him as well as put him on his back. While disoriented somewhat, his mind was still clear enough to know as well as desire to get back to his feet quickly, though his body was different. With the wind knocked clear out of him his body felt as weak as an anesthetized kitten, his lungs reset into their proper pattern of inhale and exhale but he knew his strength would return eventually.

Too bad 'eventually' was not quick enough for the monk official.

"Round one goes to Nina Williams!" the monk official, declared stepping up onto the edge of the platform. "Contestant Alexander Harris? Are you able to continue?"

Forcing his body to have strength it didn't have before, he got back to his feet and, with some moderate difficulty, brought his arms back up into a fighting stance.

"Ready when she is!" he replied, making sure that his resolve showed in his tone.

The monk took a moment to properly evaluate his condition but then nodded.

"Very well then. Round two…" the monk said before stepping off the platform. "…FIGHT!"

 _A clear cut example of how a fight can be turned around with a single move,_ he thought as he came to realize that the fight wasn't going to end as quickly as he'd like. _Time for me to show Nina what that's like._

 _ **Johnny Cage's POV**_

 _Damn, this chick is good._ he thought as he watched Xander and Nina begin to exchange blows once more. _Even with all the curveballs Xan's sending at her she dropped him on his ass with one move._

Seeing this, he realized that he could very well be looking at Xander's final match.

It wasn't that he didn't think his friend could still win the fight but rather that it would be a much closer fight than he'd thought it'd be. Xander had to win this round and the next one if he wanted to advance in the tournament but, given how things had been going, that was a tall order. Either his assistant would need to come up with something new and difficult to overcome or his luck would need to be great indeed.

"The people back home are either going to shit themselves seeing this or they're gonna steal the idea and turn it into the next movie blockbuster," Jessie said with an excited smile on her face as she continued to film the match.

"Like hell they are!" he said with unassailable determination. "The second we get back to civilization I'm having Max copyright everything from the 'Mortal Kombat' name to the details of the tournament. If anyone's going to make a movie about all this, it'll be me and naturally I'll be the star."

"Great! Another mindless fight flick for Johnny Cage to stroke his ego," Jessie groused, managing to roll her eyes without losing sight of the action. "As if it wasn't big enough already."

"Why Jessie! Have you been peeking in on me in the bath house?!" he asked with mock shock in his voice. "You nympho, you!"

"Please! Like there's probably anything worth looking at to begin with," Jessie said with mock dismissiveness. "Now Xander… with a little practice… I bet he could give me a good buzz in more ways than one."

They both chuckled at this since they knew that the camerawoman would never actually go that far with the young man unless she was drunk and had one hell of an itch to scratch. Even then Xan wasn't the sort of person who'd take advantage of a woman who was clearly plastered, regardless of how willing she made herself out to be. In all the time that they'd known each other he'd come to understand that the high school graduate would only get intimate with a woman who was completely sober and was genuinely attracted to him. Still, it'd probably be a while before Xan managed to snag a real babe because, if there was one thing that got a girl's motor running, it was a man with confidence. If a guy was unsure of himself and let it show on the outside then most women would see the man as a weakling that was either not worth her time or someone to be dominated.

He didn't want either for his pseudo-brother.

Xander deserved a knockout that could kick his ass when he needed it and support him he didn't.

 _Wouldn't hurt if she was an insatiable animal in the sack, too!_ he thought with a smile, his mind conjuring images of his friend walking out of the bedroom decidedly sore.

Sore and likely in need of serious refueling considering the energy he'd burned through.

Shaking his head to clear the entertaining images, he focused back on the fight seeing that during his seconds of daydreaming Nina and Xander had finished their initial barrage of attacks, causing both to look quite winded. Not surprising since both would be working their hardest to evade their opponent's blows as blocking them would not work out well for either. Sweat was visible on both of them but, judging from the looks on their faces, neither of them were ready to throw in the towel just yet.

"Give it up, boy," Williams said as the two began to circle each other, no doubt looking for an opening. "You're good, you've got potential, but you don't have what it takes to beat me."

"If I had a dollar for every time I heard someone tell me that I'd be richer than Johnny Cage!" Xander fired back with some decent quippage. "Besides, I've still got one plan of attack I haven't used yet. It's a bit of a 'Hail Mary' move but it's better than nothing."

"A fighter who relies on stuff like that to save them is a pretty pathetic warrior," Nina said, being no slouch when it came to returning fire. "Guess that's what makes it a perfect fit for someone like you."

"We'll see," Xander said, losing the casual chit-chat tone of voice. "By the way… who's that behind you?"

"That's your big move? The whole 'look behind you' gag?" Williams asked, sounding half amused and half insulted.

"No, really, there really is someone behind you," Xander said, doing such a good acting job that he was considering just having his assistant play himself in the movie instead of a look-a-like actor. "In fact… are you two related? She looks like it."

THIS proved to be the right thing to say since instantly Nina turned to face the threat she'd been told was there, but naturally all she found was empty air. Nevertheless this provided Xander with a once in a lifetime opening and, just like he'd taught the kid during their sparring sessions, the college kid pounced on it. With a burst of speed that was crackling with electricity as well as a step above what he'd managed thus far, Xander crossed the distance between him and his opponent. To Nina's credit she was quick to clue in on what was going on and moved to bring her arms into a proper defensive posture but it was too little, too late. With a passable imitation of the blonde's earlier move Xander executed a double palm thrust to Williams' stomach but MIGHT have put a little too much oomph into it. For instead of merely knocking the female fighter a foot or two up and three to four feet back, the double palm thrust actually sent Nina flying backwards clear out of the ring.

In fact, for a moment, he thought that it was a real possibility that she might somehow manage to slam into the side of the nearby ring, even thought there was a fifteen foot space between them.

In the end Williams dropped to the ground sevenish feet shy of the other platform.

"Ring out! The second round goes to contestant Xander Harris!" the monk official declared to all present.

Walking to the right until he had an unobstructed view of Nina, he could tell that she was both conscious as well as determined to make it back to the fighting platform for the third round. However he could tell right off the bat that, while she might be able to walk decently enough, the double palm thrust Xander had landed was not without its aftereffects. The wince with every step, the slightly unnatural way the blonde was moving, clearly indicated that Nina was feeling pain and he wouldn't be surprised if a nasty bruise formed at the point of impact over the next few hours. Depending on just how severe the pain turned out to be, the woman might not be able to fight normally in the third round, especially given how a hapkido user tended to move. It might not mean a lock on the final round for Xander but Nina would need to keep her movements short and efficient if she didn't want her disadvantage to cost her the round.

Only a minute passed before Nina Williams was back in the ring and in her usual fighting posture but it was clear that she wouldn't be trash talking anymore. Kinda hard to do that when your roads to victory had been reduced to a mere handful at best. Still, when the official declared the start of the final round, she did what any self-respecting fighter would: she fought with all she had to the bitter end.

Within the first four exchanges of attacks he could tell that the damage done to her abdomen was enough to take a lot of the power out of her kicks, as well as a bit of speed. Her defense had been weakened as well since she wasn't able to 'go with the flow' like she had no doubt been taught to do by her mentor. With both crucial aspects of her fighting ability reduced by a sizeable amount, it was merely a matter of time before she'd lose to Xander. Still, it spoke well of her skill that she was still able to get the odd good hit in and never let her defeat get her worked up enough to be reckless. He'd seen a lot of fighters totally lose their heads in similar situations and only wind up making themselves look that much more pathetic to whoever was watching. Keeping a cool head was crucial in a match and losing said cool only made you lose that much quicker.

Nevertheless, with a punch to the already damaged area and then an uppercut to the jaw, Xander obtained victory, winning him the round and allowing him to proceed to his next match.

In a show of ultimate class Xander walked up to Nina and offered a hand to help her get back to her feet. For a moment it looked like the blonde's pride was going to keep her from accepting it but, with quite a bit of reluctance, she takes the offered hand. With the difficulty one would expect from serious bruising to the stomach and a decent amount to the jaw, Nina was standing once more but then, in a move that puzzled him, she leaned forward and whispered something into Xander's right ear. It was too quiet to make anything out but there was no mistake his friend going rigid in surprise for a moment before turning his head to look Nina right in the eyes as she gave him a not nice smile.

While most people might mistake this as the 'not nice smile before a wonderful night of sex' kinda smile, he had enough experience to spot the malicious twinkle in Williams' eyes. This was the kind of smile that eventually had you wishing that you'd never met the one giving it to you and potentially landed you in the hospital.

As Xander walked towards the set of steps closest to him and Jesse, he could tell that he was half distracted by what Nina had said to him. Eventually the curiosity became too much and he just had to know what Nina had told Xander.

"Well what'd she say? A phone number to call? An address to meet her at in a few weeks?" he asked, hoping that against his better judgment the outcome would be positive.

"No. She said that I should enjoy this win while I can because as soon as her sister Anna hears about this match, I'll be all she'll think about until we meet," Xander replied, sounding like he was pretty sure he wouldn't like it when the day of that meeting arrived.

"Well that's a good thing, isn't it?" Jessie asked, sounding like she hadn't quite clued in. "I mean, sure, it's a bit creepy that her sister would like guys stronger than her but it's not the sickest thing I've ever heard of."

"Somehow I think that Nina and Anna aren't the closest of sisters," Xander said as he managed to pull himself free of his thoughts. "If Anna's gonna come calling it'll either be to kick my ass for getting in the way of their sibling rivalry or to recruit me to her side of the fight."

"O-kay… it'll be a little dicey, but you'll manage," he said grudgingly admitting that getting in between fighting siblings was rarely a good move. "Play your cards right and maybe you'll find out which of them is better in the sack!" he added with a laugh.

"Johnny!" Jessie groused with a roll of her eyes.

He just continued laughing since reactions like that never failed to amuse him.


End file.
